A Father's Love
by teacherbev
Summary: AU Dumbledore told Harry that those we love never truly leave us. What if that statement was truer than even he ever imagined? No Slash.
1. Chapter 1: In The Beginning

A Father's Love

By Teacherbev

Disclaimer: : I am not J.K. Rowling, I am not a multinational bookselling company, nor am I a multi-million dollar movie company, so I don't own anything that you recognize. I am a retired former teacher who likes to twist plots and play with characters, so enjoy.

Summary: AU Dumbledore told Harry that those we love never truly leave us. What if that statement was truer than even he ever imagined? No Slash.

Prologue

James Potter was sitting at his desk, trying to make sense of the mounds of information that Dumbledore's network of spies and informants had gleaned over the past several weeks, but it was rough going. Since he had been forced to resign his job as an Unspeakable to take his wife and now eleven month old son into hiding several months ago, he had begged the old man to at least give him something to occupy his time. As much as he enjoyed the time with his wife and son, he needed to feel as if he was still fighting against Voldemort and by analyzing the seemingly random and unrelated bits of information gleaned from Dumbledore's various sources, he could sometimes see patterns and make connections that had so far predicted at least three attacks that they had been able to turn into ambushes. His naturally analytical mind had been honed during his years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry by developing and planning out elaborate pranks and he used it now to try and thwart the evil dark lord as much as possible.

He sat back for a moment, chewing on the end of his ink spattered quill as he reminisced about those carefree days. He had met his best friends on the Hogwarts Express on his first trip to the Magical school as an eleven year old and after both Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had been sorted into Gryffindor with him, it seemed that the fates had thrown them together for a reason. He had been the son of elderly parents who had given up on ever being parents and was now the first to admit he had been overprotected and spoiled all of his life.

He had met Sirius Black as they both met outside of an empty compartment and the two boys had instantly recognized their similar status by the cut of their under clothing, and fit of their custom made robes as well as their hand crafted top of the line trunks. Sirius and he had claimed a compartment to themselves as the spoiled but deserving heirs of Ancient and Most Noble Families as they felt it was their due. The two found that they shared many things from their privileged upbringing to the heavy responsibilities they would both be expected to handle upon the deaths of their fathers. It seemed as if their whole lives had been planned out for them from infancy and a sympathetic cord of understanding bound the two together from that first hour. But then Sirius Black had been sorted into Gryffindor and his life shattered.

While James had watched the shocked and white faced boy head for the Gryffindor table after the Sorting Hat had yelled out "Gryffindor" the entire school had stopped in utter shock and disbelief before the pointing fingers and whispers broke out, especially amongst Sirius' older cousins and family friends who were all sitting in stunned disbelief and horror at the Slytherin table. As he stood waiting for his own sorting he vowed to be placed with his friend no matter what the bloody old hat said. He had expected to be placed into Ravenclaw like his mother but he vowed to convince the moldy hat that he would sneak into the Headmaster's office and torch the old hat if it didn't listen to him. As it turned out, he didn't have to convince the hat and he gave a deep sigh of relief as he placed the hat back onto the stool and marched over to his new friend to offer whatever comfort that he could.

James had stayed up late into the night comforting and helping the distraught and almost frantic boy who was afraid of even writing to his parents about being placed into the most hated House at Hogwarts, at least the House his family hated the most. The torment and anguish apparent in the haunted grey eyes had reached deep down into his very soul and made a connection that James had never had before and in fact, didn't even think was possible.

The next morning Sirius had been devastated to receive no less than three Howlers with his breakfast. His Mother, Father and Uncle Aquila Lestrange had all sent the loud and very visible evidence of their displeasure at the sorting of a Black into such a reviled House to the utter embarrassment and humiliation of the eleven year old. All three had promised dire consequences and severe punishment when Sirius returned home if he somehow didn't find a way to be resorted immediately. And when Sirius had fled the Great Hall with the mocking shouts and derisive laughter of most of the students in the Great Hall following him out the door, James had dropped his serviette and rushed out after the fleeing boy without hesitation.

When James had accompanied Sirius later that day to see their Head of House, Professor McGonagall, she had said she was sympathetic to Sirius' dismay, but adamant that the Hat's original placement was final and no resorting had ever occurred in the almost a century the school had been in existence. The two eleven year olds left her office disappointed and disillusioned about how much the Professor really cared about the members of her own House and a little more of their innocence and trust in authority figures was lost forever. Neither one of them could see why the two of them couldn't be resorted together into Ravenclaw; it would have been acceptable to both sets of parents but the dour and strict Professor hadn't even really seemed to care about the dire consequences facing the justifiably frightened Black child and both boys felt she had simply brushed them off as inconsequential.

They had become inseparable from that first day, one boy pampered but so lonely for someone his age to connect with and the other so adrift from his parents' unexpected and harsh reaction to something the child really had no control over at all, that they instantly bonded more deeply than most brothers.

It had only taken a couple of days for their duo to become a trio when the two saved one of their roommates from three older Slytherins who were making fun of his shabby robes and unassuming manner and casting minor stinging hexes to make the boy twist and dance while they made rude comments and laughed at his tears of pain and humiliation. Remus had become the quiet but brilliant third to their group that day. Each of the three recognized their own loneliness in the others and could empathize and sympathize with each other as no one else in their house, even their Head of House, tried or even cared to notice.

It had taken the young trio less than a month to figure out how things worked in the magical school. Groups of older students would harass and bully younger students relentlessly whenever they could find them isolated and away from the purview of the teachers and prefects. And complaining to a Professor did nothing, especially if it was more than one older student against a younger one. And if they tried to fight back and pulled a wand they would get in trouble for fighting. It never seemed to matter who started the altercation or how disparate the two groups' abilities were, the punishment was for fighting, and both sides were equally and harshly dealt with. Apparently Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry didn't believe in the concept of not guilty by reason of self defense. And it certainly paid no heed to any ideal of equality in forces or numbers.

So the trio turned their talents into anonymous pranking to help settle the score against the worst of the bullies. James was the planner and strategist, Remus was the scholarly researcher who found the spells and potions that they needed and Sirius was reckless and unafraid of parental displeasure so he usually volunteered to plant the pranks despite the risk of being caught and punished. Since his parents had threatened severe punishment just for being a Gryffindor, he figured his punishment for being caught wouldn't be any worse than what his parents already planned on dishing out to him at the first opportunity. All three boys quickly learned that when you have nothing to loose and feel abandoned and betrayed by your own house, detentions and house points mean very little in the grand scheme of life and reality.

It wasn't long before they had to include the last member of their dormitory into their little group because it was the only way they could keep the mousy little boy from overhearing their plotting and planning. He was barely able to keep up in classes and was as much an outcast from the various cliques as James, Sirius, and Remus were, and was desperate to belong with some group and there was no one else in their house and year except the girls, and they flat out refused to have anything to do with the pathetic and socially inept boy. He had never turned them in, but the trio was afraid he would decide he could earn acceptance and approval from at least the Professors by turning in his dorm mates, so they began including him into their group. Besides he was so nondescript that people just forgot he was in the room sometimes, which made him perfect for planting some of their pranks while the others were under careful and intense scrutiny.

James absently waved a wand to refill his empty tea cup and sat back again; cupping the warm cup in his hands as his mind wandered back again to the glory days of Hogwarts. He could hear his beloved wife upstairs giving his son and heir a bath and the squeals and giggles coming from the bathroom made him smile as he thought about how he had finally convinced Lilly Evans to even give him the time of day. The pretty bookish redhead had always despised the quartet for their 'childish' pranks and wouldn't even give him the time of day to explain exactly 'why' they were pranking people, especially the Slytherins.

And then everything came to a head when they were relaxing after taking their last O.W.L. examination in early June of their fifth year. James had flipped Severus Snape upside down and dangled him in the air outside by the lake in retaliation for the potion the sly and greasy haired Slytherin had brewed for some of his older house mates to slip into unsuspecting younger girls' juice. Little Peter had managed to be nearly invisible as a couple of seventh year Slytherins, Rookwood and Malfoy, laughed and bragged about being able to molest two little second year Hufflepuff Mudbloods without anyone being able to prove anything since Snape's wonderful potion made it so the girls forgot the last three hours. They were planning to go after several of the older girls since it had worked so well with the two younger girls that afternoon but Peter had ran to tell the rest of the quartet and they had managed to use a switching spell on the vials in the older Slytherins' robe pockets with a vial of colored water and the two had been caught and given a weeks detention.

Unfortunately Snape's potion had worked too well and it would just be Peter's word that anything had happened to the second years so the group decided it would be useless to take it to the Headmaster. As Remus had pointed out, the rest of the Slytherins wouldn't hesitate to give Malfoy and Rookwood alibis for the time of the incident and it would just be the quartet that would be punished for trying to get them into trouble. So James and Sirius took it upon themselves to punish Snape for brewing such a foul potion.

He gave a small smirk as he thought back on the turning point that had made his life together with his wonderful wife and adorable son possible. He would have to one day say thanks to the disagreeable Severus Snape for turning on Lily and calling her that despicable name. Lily had thought the trio might have been out of line when they flipped the greasy haired little git upside down and showed off his graying underpants for the entire world to see. How was he to know the slimy hairball didn't wear trousers like everyone else did? And when she had first confronted him about why they were always picking on the greasy git they had quickly made up some lame excuse about something trivial because they couldn't explain the real reasons behind their ongoing attacks out on the side of the lake in front of a large group of students from all four houses. But the vicious verbal attack on Lily from Snape when she had tried to defend him, followed by the weeks of deliberately hateful and blatant attacks on the girl that followed had proven to her once and for all that there might actually be a valid reason that Snape and his fellow Slytherins had been the target of so many of the Marauders sometimes vicious pranks.

James had finally been able to convince Lily to listen to his explanation when he had snuck down to the hospital wing one night after Lily had been sent to the infirmary because of the side effects of one of Snape's more vile and sneaky actions. Lily and Snape had vied for the top position in potions class their entire school career and Snape had finally managed to sabotage one of her potions without old Slughorn noticing. The resulting flare-up had sent her and her partner Hestia both to the infirmary with boils from the potion and burns from the scalding hot liquid on their arms and hands.

After James had left the infirmary and she had nothing but time to think as she laid in the stiff white bed, Lily had realized that the Marauders pranks tended to be humiliating and very public while Snape and his bullying band of future Death Eaters went after people who had no way of defending themselves, as the sneaky bastards rarely attacked in public and never left any witnesses or proof that one of his potions had caused the disagreeable and very often painful effects that plagued one of Snivellus' victims. And any time they were accused, they supplied each other with unbreakable alibis. The Professors were unwilling to do more than question those accused without some physical proof and so nothing was ever done, even when the victims had to spend time in the infirmary just as she was doing now.

That conversation had led to a tentative friendship between Lily and James which he had fostered by using the summer to send lots of owls to her, explaining the circumstances of some of their most memorable pranks of the past. Of course, some of their benign pranks targeted the general population of the school so it wouldn't be instantly evident that they were targeting certain older students, but their most malicious and embarrassing pranks were always reserved for the most deserving of the bullies.

By the end of that summer, Lily was fully on board with their program of revenge through pranks and actually helped with their pranks and even supplied some non-magical ideas for pranks that she had found in several Muggle joke books that they could adapt and use. That had lead to their first date and, as they say, the rest was history.

James brought his mind to the present, and turned and smiled at the sight of a freshly scrubbed Harry being carried into his study for a goodnight kiss by his wife. He stood and hugged them both, Harry giggling from between them as he reached up and snagged his father's glasses from the end of his nose.

"Harry, give those back to Daddy, he needs to see to work, love." Lily gave a girlish giggle at the satisfied smirk on her son's face as he jammed an earpiece into his mouth and chewed on the silver metal. James pulled away, placing a kiss on the top of Harry's unruly and wet black hair as he reclaimed his glasses.

"Ugh, baby drool!" he said as he wiped them on the hem of his shirt. But he smiled as he said it.

* * *

Lily bustled around the kitchen of the small gate house they were using as a hiding place and smiled at her husband as he dipped a spoon into the sauce to sneak a taste. James put down the spoon and snuggled to the back of Lily as she continued to chop vegetables for the salad she was making. He wrapped his arms around her waist as he nuzzled the back of her neck, forcing her long hair out of his way with his chin so he could reach the soft and slightly ticklish skin underneath.

Harry sat contently on the floor, peeling off the labels of the vegetable cans he had managed to steal out of the bottom of the pantry cupboard without his mother noticing. She thought he was playing with a set of soft plastic blocks, but the cans had proven to be much more entertaining and he was being unusually quiet since he somehow suspected that his mother would take them away from him if she noticed what he was doing. It seemed as if she always took away the best toys whenever he managed to get a hold of them. He had worked a long time to reach his father's wand from the table the other day and as soon as he made the wonderful stick make bright sparks she had taken it away and then made him take a nap.

Lily giggled at James and turned her head around over her shoulder to give him a kiss and gasped as she spotted her little hellion busily removing labels in the corner. "James, take care of Harry. I need to finish up before Dumbledore gets here and I just don't have time to mess with him right now." She put her hands on her hips in exasperation. "Now how am I supposed to know what is in those cans, young man?"

Harry just gave an innocent grin and then squalled in frustration when his father reached down and scooped him up from the mess of cans and torn labels. James was torn between scolding his son and laughing at his antics, but at a huff from Lily, he decided he should at least pretend to scold him.

"Well, I guess we're going to have some mystery meals for a little while thanks to you. What are we going to do with you, huh?" He continued to lightly scold a still complaining Harry as he took him into the lounge to place him in the much hated playpen so he could clean up the mess the toddler had made without Harry helping any more. Harry screamed his displeasure at being left alone in the room as his father just left him and returned to the kitchen.

As the two finished their tasks, the screams turned into huffing cries, and finally just hitching breaths as Harry gave up and went to sleep, a large stuffed black dog held tightly to his chest for comfort.

* * *

Wonderful smells were permeating the small cottage by the time the floo flared an hour later and a tall wizard with long grayish white hair and a flowing beard stepped gracefully out of the fireplace to stop and bend over a sleepy eyed little boy just waking up from his nap.

"Well, Little Harry, my boy, how are you doing?" He bent and scooped up Harry who had managed to stand up and reach his arms up over his head to be picked up. "Shall we go and find your Mummy and Daddy…I believe I hear them in the kitchen." He kept talking as he walked into the warm and inviting kitchen, taking a deep breath to fully appreciate the wonderful aromas that assaulted his long and crooked nose.

"My Lily, something smells wonderful." Dumbledore remarked while bouncing the young boy on his hip.

James and Lily turned somewhat startled by the old Headmaster's nearly silent entrance. "Why didn't the wards and the floo announce your arrival, Headmaster?" James was beginning to be upset about how they had been surprised by their visitor.

Dumbledore handed Harry to his mother as she reached for her son. He took a seat at the already set kitchen table and spread his hands in a silent motion asking for patience.

As he stroked his long beard through a circle of his fingers, he gathered his thoughts before speaking. "I have come here this evening with both good news and bad news. As you have already broached the topic of my bad news I shall begin with that topic. Somehow, the Death Eaters have managed to steal a device that will negate most of the wards commonly used in the oldest family estates from deep within the Department of Mysteries. Fortunately there were only two such devices in the Ministry's possession and the thief only managed to secure one of them before he was routed from the facility. Unfortunately he somehow managed to escape with it. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement is in quite an uproar as we speak because no one has been able to ascertain how someone managed to breach the security around the storage facility without setting off any of their alarms. It seems the ward was only tripped after the thief managed to gain entry to the most secure room and then simply grabbed a shelf full of enchanted items that were being studied for their uses. And at this time, it is unknown whether the thief actually knows what all of the items he stole do or if it was taken at random with the other items on the shelf."

Dumbledore smiled at Lily and gave her a single nod of thanks as she placed a cup of tea in front of him. He took a moment to fix the brew exactly like he preferred before speaking once more. "I used the second such object to arrive here this evening to ascertain if your wards here would be sufficient. Alas, my unexpected arrival has demonstrated their woeful inadequacy against this object." He reached into a hidden pocket in his bright green robes and pulled out a silver disk about the size of his fist that was covered with runes and magical symbols covering it completely. "Since we are not certain that this was the objective of the break-in or if it was merely snatched up with the other missing items in order to confuse the objective, we must act as if it was a primary focus and take measures to neutralize its effect."

James had helped Lily sit down as she clutched Harry tightly to her chest in shock and fear. James turned his attention to the Headmaster as he took his own seat beside his wife and son and across from their visitor. "And how does that affect us, sir?"

"Now James, how many times have I requested that you call me Albus. I am, after all, no longer your Headmaster or indeed in any type of authority over you."

James waved his hand impatiently, wanting answers. "Are you finally willing to tell us why you have insisted we go into hiding then…Albus?" His lips were white as he pressed them together; annoyance and frustration at the old man and his riddles and games overpowering his fear for his family.

Dumbledore breathed deeply before letting out a long sigh. "I suspect that the time has arrived. I had hoped to keep this from everyone but, alas, I fear I can no longer in good conscious ask you to hide without telling you the entire story."

Lily handed Harry to her husband and quickly removed their dinner from the stove, placing stasis charms on everything so that she could turn her full attention to what the old man was saying. James had pulled Harry onto his lap and kissed the unruly mop of black hair that he shared with his boy.

Looking at first her husband and then at her former Headmaster, Lily sat down as she huffed softly. "I believe the time has long passed for you to tell us the whole truth. Exactly what have you been hiding from us, old man?" She raised an eyebrow in question and folded her arms. James recognized her expression as the first stage of her volatile temper beginning to boil.

"I will warn you, Albus, when Lily gets that expression it is best to confess to everything… even if you aren't guilty." James was only half joking as he said that. Lily reached over took her son from her husband's lap and put him in his high chair with a bread roll from the table to keep his occupied while the adults discussed the matter before them.

Albus took another sip of his tea, folded his arms with his hands in the deep sleeves of his robe. He sat back in the comfortable wooden kitchen chair and closed his eyes for a single moment before beginning. "Three years ago when Madame Reveur left as Divination Professor I met an applicant for the position at the Hogs Head in Hogsmeade.

Now the only reason I had agreed to meet this woman was because she did come from an old family with several very well known and accurate seers. I had intended to tell her that we would no longer being offering Divination at Hogwarts since seers are born, not educated and therefore it would be better for a true see to seek an apprenticeship rather than taking an elective class at our school. Just as I was preparing to thank her and dismiss her she went into a trance. Much to my shock and surprise she then issued a prophecy that I have no reason to suspect is not valid."

He looked down his long, crooked nose as both Lily and James hid snorts of disbelief. "You mean I gave up my job, took my wife and son away from their home, and hid out from everyone for the last three months because of some crackpot '_seers_' prediction?" James was now standing, his hands on the table as he leaned over putting his own face just inches away from Dumbledore's nose.

The old man remained calm and merely leaned back to allow a little more space between the two men. "Now, now James… you must allow me to continue and I shall endeavor to explain." James did sit down but his face still show his disbelief and burgeoning anger. Lily was visibly biting her lip to refrain from taking the meddling old man to task for disrupting their whole life and making her terrified for the safety of her family for nothing but some dodgy prophesy.

"I shall share the memory with either one or both of you the next opportunity we have to meet at Hogwarts but for now I must ask you to bear with me and accept what I am about to tell you on faith. You should also be aware that this prophecy appeared in the Department of Mystery's Hall of Prophecy in a memory globe as is customary for all true prophecies." The two Potters seemed to settle down a little at that statement and leaned back once more.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore continued, "this woman went into a trance and gave the following prophecy:

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."_

Dumbledore sat back and steepled his fingers, resting his chin on his finger tips as the young witch and wizard tried to assimilate all that the prophecy could mean to their family and themselves. It was several long, silent and tense moments before Lily began to speak.

"Who else knows about this? And is there any proof that this applies to our Harry?" She turned and summoned a Muggle yellow legal pad and a biro from the front room and placed them in front of her, deftly removing her wand from within Harry's range and replacing it in her apron pocket. She leaned her head down just long enough to scribble down the prophecy and then raised her head and glared at the Headmaster, daring him to not answer her.

"Yes, Dumbledore… how do we know that this is our son? And what exactly does it mean for him and for us? How do we prepare for it?" James glanced down as he noticed his wife writing down his questions as well, leaving several lines between each one for the old wizard's answers.

With a sigh and a fleeting frown, Dumbledore tried to explain. "There are two boys born at the same time that this could apply to. Harry here and Little Neville Longbottom both fit the parameters of the prophecy. Frank and Alice have also managed to escape from Voldemort on three occasions just as you and Lily have. And Neville was born on the 30th of July while Harry was born the next night. As for the rest, I am afraid I have no idea what it means." He paused and looked suddenly much older, "And I must inform you that Voldemort knows at least the first part of the prophecy. A young Death Eater had hidden himself in the shadows in the hallway outside of the room I was interviewing Sybil Trelawney in and was only discovered halfway through her proclamation."

James jumped up, barely managing to catch his chair before it fell over, and began to pace in agitation. "Who was the Death Eater, Albus, and how much does he know? Was he allowed to escape…does Voldemort know either Neville or Harry could be his downfall? What can we do…should we leave the country…escape and hide amongst the Muggle world? What…you can't just come here and tell us this without telling us more!" His agitation was making the volume of his voice raise and his pacing stopped abruptly as he stopped across from Dumbledore and slammed his fists down on the table in front of him as he leaned over, nose to nose, demanding answers.

Lily was angry but managed to focus her anger on the hastily scribbled notes she was continuing to make on the yellow pad. Her biro making scratching noises as she frantically tried to keep her writing up with her whirling thoughts and her husband's rapid fire questions.

It had taken all evening, and their most serious questions had never been answered, but both Lily and James had been convinced as the evening wore on that even if they didn't believe in the infallibility of prophecy, they had to treat it as such because Voldemort would most likely treat it as such and would, therefore be after them at some point.

Lily was cleaning up the kitchen, puttering around to keep her hands busy as her mind whirled in controlled panic. James came down the stairs from finally putting poor little Harry to bed only to find his wife mindlessly cleaning the already clean countertops with a dirty rag.

As he reached for her hands to stop their mindless motions, she turned and buried her head into her husband's chest, a soft sob escaping her as she clung to him for strength. "What are we going to do, James? How can we keep that psychotic monster from our son? And how do we prepare him…keep him alive long enough to grow up…what do we do?" Her voice faded as she started to cry softly.

"I don't know, Lils…but we'll manage somehow, we always do. I can start researching tomorrow for ways to nullify the effects of that artifact that Dumbledore left us. And no one is better at charms than you are, even old Flitwick says so. I'm sure that we can come up with something that will protect our boy from that …" He felt his own tears on his cheeks as words failed him.

* * *

The next few days set the pattern for the following months at the little gatekeeper's cottage. James poured over books and manuscripts from any source he could find. The Potter Manor had an extensive library, even more extensive in some ways than the Hogwarts library, and both Sirius and the Headmaster would bring any of their personal books that they thought might be helpful. Remus had volunteered to spend many long hours searching the Heritage and Heirloom vaults that the Potters maintained at Gringott's and when he was done, he scrounged the bookshops in both Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. He even made several trips down into Knockturn Alley, though no one informed Lily that he had done that, and when he had exhausted those sources, he turned to haunting the libraries at Cambridge and Oxford, looking for anything that might help his friends and their son to survive.

Lily was madly scribbling arithmantic and runic formulas in a series of spiral binders that she had Remus fetch for her. He had lived amongst Muggles and was very capable of passing without comment in that world so he was the best one to send on those types of errands. She thought she had the beginnings of an old magic protection spell that had its origins in druidic rituals and was combining it with both ancient Egyptian and Sumerian magics and was hopefully optimistic about making something that would even protect against the Killing Curse if necessary.

The frantic group took an evening off to celebrate little Harry's first birthday, though the adults all looked frazzled and anxious even as he demolished the chocolate cake that his mother had baked for the evening. A few presents and a hot bath later, Harry was finally asleep upstairs and the somber mood descended over the little cottage once more.

Sirius sighed and ran his hand through his shoulder length black hair, forcing it back from his face in frustration. "Any luck?" He looked at first James and then Lily, one eyebrow raised in hope.

James blew out a deep breath in frustration. "Some, but not any near enough or fast enough for my complete satisfaction. I found an ancient hiding spell that we can cast over the entire cottage that will keep us safe for the present. It needs two fairly strong wizards or witches to cast the spell, one to receive the spell and a fourth person as the 'secret keeper'. It's called the Fidelius Charm and once it is cast, no one can find us even if they are looking directly at us. I can cast it with one of you to help, Lily as one who is being protected can receive it, but we will need to decide who is going to help cast and who will keep the secret. Unfortunately it needs to be cast at midnight of a full moon so Remus is definitely out of helping. Sorry, old friend." He reached over to where Remus was sitting and patted him on the knee in consolation and comfort.

Remus hit the arm of his chair in frustration and resignation. "Well, it will have to be Peter and Sirius then, as they are the only other two who know where you are now. Unless you are going to let Dumbledore in on casting the spell, or being the secret keeper for you?" He looked between his two friends but he got a negative head shake and a grimace of distaste from Lily and an equally disgusted look from James.

"Not unless there is no other choice. I was having a hard time with him after he informed us about the Prophecy…he should have told us when we first went into hiding and not waited for so long. I feel like we would have had a solution by now or at least been much closer to one if he hadn't been so intent on keeping his secrets. And you know how we all feel about Snivellus. How that Death Eater ever managed to convince Dumbledore that he had a change of heart and now wants to spy for him is beyond me. I didn't think the old man could ever be such a fool." James was almost yelling by the time he had finished speaking.

Lily leaned against James and spit out, "That Death Eater would turn us over in a heartbeat for the glory of it and to get back at James. And I don't trust the Headmaster not to reveal the secret to him. When we try to find out what's going on, all he says is 'it's not my secret to reveal, but I trust Severus with my life.' Well, I don't and I don't trust either of them at this point. He also wanted us to sign some malarkey about Harry going to live with Petunia," her face scrunched up as if she had eaten a bitter potion at the mere mention of her estranged sister, "if something happened to us. Can you imagine what my '_darling sister_' would do to a magical child under her control, let along my magical child?" It was clear that if looks could kill, Petunia would cease to exist rather rapidly.

Sirius gave an involuntary shiver of revulsion. "She makes my mother look tolerant and loving."

The other laughed softly though there was really no humor in the statements. The talk continued well into the night until it was finally decided that the Fidelius would be cast on the next full moon with Sirius as the secret keeper and Peter as the second caster of the spell.

* * *

On October 13, 1981 the four friends gathered together to cast an ancient protection spell that hadn't been cast in over 600 years. Their fifth friend was safely locked away in the old stone buttery that he used to stay safe on the full moons and Harry was visiting Minerva McGonagall for the evening. They had told their plans to Dumbledore and the other members of the Order of the Phoenix, but they wanted no witnesses since they wanted the secret of their whereabouts strictly controlled and they were unsure about some of the members and downright distrustful of others, Snape and Mundungous Fletcher in particular.

They had attempted the spell twice but it seemed that Peter was just as pathetic at magic as he had always been and was unable to successfully support James in casting such a complex and powerful spell. It had taken the combined efforts of all of the other Marauders to help him become an animagus, and even then he could only manage a common garden rat. In fact, they had about given up on him ever succeeding at becoming anything until he had returned from Christmas holiday in their sixth year as a successful animagus, even though his form lacked much power.

"Look James, I don't think Peter is going to get this. No offence Peter, but I just don't think you are magically strong enough to cast this. So how about if Peter and I switch roles, he becomes the secret keeper and I will help you cast the spell. That's better any way because everyone knows how close we are and if Snivellus gives up information to the old maniac, then they will come after me, and I can't give you up even under torture since I won't be the secret keeper."

No one noticed the hopeful look of glee that quickly passed across Peter's face or the way he was twisting his hands together in nervous anticipation. James ran a hand through his messy hair, making it stick up even more than usual.

He nodded reluctantly before saying, "I can see that, Siri. Yeah, that makes sense if you look at it. You are the logical secret keeper for us and that would make Peter safer. No one would expect us to use him as the secret keeper and he could keep a low profile so that we all stay safe. Okay, let's try it one more time. Sirius, you know the incantation, we'll start on three."

The third casting was successful. After Peter wrote the secret on several pieces of paper so that the secret could be shared with essential personnel, he slipped a final one into the pocket of his robe and apparated away to await the next calling of his master.

* * *

On the morning of October 30th, Lily ran screaming with excitement into the small living room of the gatekeeper's cottage and twirled around, a thick spiral notebook raised high above her head as she danced with excitement.

"I found it! I did it!" She repeated over and over. "This ritual should work!"

James scooped Harry up off the floor from where they had been playing with multicolored blocks and gathered his wife into a three way hug. Harry had no idea what was going on but he was happy that his Mummy and Daddy seemed to be so happy. It felt like forever since they had been so happy so he joined them in squealing in glee as the three pirouetted around the sofa and jumped over the tangle of blocks on the floor.

The three collapsed finally in a tangle of arms and legs on the battered old sofa, breathless but still exuberant.

"Tell me, Lillybell. Explain it to me. Can we all use it, is it just to protect a child…how soon can we test it and use it?" His words tumbled out in his happiness at his wife's apparent success.

Lily took several deep breaths as her husband admired the view. "Well, I know that it will protect Harry, I'm not completely sure that it will totally protect an adult from the Killing Curse. But it will either absorb the curse or rebound it upon the caster when a loving parent willingly sacrifices themselves for their child." She bit her lip as she looked down, unwilling to look James straight in the face as the awful reality of the spell hit him.

"No, Lily. You can't do that…I'll do it if it must be done to save both you and Harry. I don't think I could go on without you." His voice faded into a husky whisper as he felt his throat close up and his eyes shimmer with moisture. "It has to save you both."

"I think I can continue to refine it so that it will cover all three of us, but for now, this is all that I have found. And it's better than nothing until I can rework it." She grabbed her men and pulled them into a fierce hug. "Let us protect Harry for now, and then later when I have worked it out, we can redo it, please?" She had the beginnings of tears as she begged her husband to let her protect her baby at least. "I don't want to lose either one of you, either." She kissed James, gently and tried to pour all of her feelings of love and hope into it.

Harry didn't know what had happened to the fun of minutes ago, but he knew that if Mummy and Daddy kept smashing their lips together he would soon find himself upstairs in his crib so he put a hand on each chest from his place between them and pushed as hard as he could. "Yecch…no do…no, no, no!"

James pulled back slowly before leaning forward and giving Lily a kiss and then placed another one on Harry's forehead before he reached his hand out and ruffled the black headed tot on his lap. "All right, Harry beary…you win for now." He looked over the boys' head and gave his wife a meaningful glance. "For now." He repeated softly.

"All right. I will let you cast it on just Harry for now. What can I do to help?" He sighed resignedly and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"We need to stand up and hold Harry between us as we both cast the spell of innocent protection. I have it written down here phonetically since it's in ancient Welsh and I don't think you speak it very fluently." She gave a wry smile at her spouse as he made a rue of distaste.

"No, Magical Languages was your forte, not mine. Give me an honest transfiguration any day. Besides, there is a reason no one but the Welsh speak it. It is impossible for any normal person to twist their tongue that way without causing grievous bodily harm."

"Well, then it's a good thing I'm not normal since I can speak it and I'm not Welsh. How your family can be Welsh and your Manor is in Wales yet you don't speak even rudimentary Welsh, is beyond me!" It was an argument they had frequently had and it lacked any true venom. Since the Potters had settled in Godric's Hollow centuries ago, they had remained aloof and separated from the local population almost entirely, choosing to stay on their vast acreage and bringing in house elves and squibs for any necessary jobs around the vast estate. With apparition and portkeys so easily available, the family found going to Diagon Alley or London actually easier than going to the nearest village.

She handed him the notebook while pulling Harry over onto her lap for a cuddle. James read the open page and seemed to be trying to tie his tongue into knots as he worked to memorize the long and difficult incantation. He wished futilely that Lily had found something in Latin or Greek as he had some chance of pronouncing that without swallowing his tongue. He spoke the long phrases and looked over toward the two who were giggling at the faces he was making.

"Alwn ar 'r Dduwiau at achlesa 'r 'n ddieuog buchedd rhyngom. Cadw 'u 'n ddihangol chan unrhyw a ddeisyf 'u amhara. 'm hud , 'm buchedd , 'm enaid ardystia at amddiffyn 'u. Okay, exactly what am I saying here? For all I know, I have just announced my undying love for Snape and invited him for a threesome with Bellatrix Lestrange."

Lily smirked and leaned over. "Why James, how did you guess? No, it says something like 'we call upon the Gods to protect the innocent life between us. Keep them safe from any that wish them harm. My magic, my life, my soul do I pledge to defend them. At least that's the best that I can translate it into." Lily almost whispered the ancient blessing as her husband made a silent vow to protect not only his son but his wife, the two loves of his life as well.

"Well, that just about covers it doesn't it. Does this thing have to be done naked under a full moon or while painted blue and dancing down the main street of Hogsmeade or anything that I should know about?" He raised one eyebrow and waggled it suggestively.

"No, but I could add some things to it if you would like." She smirked back and called his bluff.

"No, that's all right Lily. But really, does it have any special requirements about casting it?" He had turned serious again.

"We need to be outside and surrounded by woods, at least half a mile from any 'dwellings of man' and it would be best to be cast on a solstice, but I am not willing to wait that long. Samhain tomorrow would be the second best time, just at sunrise."

James was thoughtful for a moment as he considered where they could do the ritual the easiest. "There are several spots here on the Potter estate that would fit that description easily." He grew thoughtful before his eyes lit up. "How about just before dawn we apparate to that clearing we have the picnics at and then we can cast the ritual beside that stream with the waterfall that you like so much. You know the one."

She did indeed as she was almost certain that Harry had been conceived there on the warm blanket they had spread out for their first midnight picnic as man and wife that unseasonably autumn afternoon, made even more perfect with the use of a few discrete warming charms. She blushed gently but James either didn't notice or pretended not to. She hoped he was remembering that evening with as much fondness as she was.

"I certainly remember that clearing and it would be perfect. We couldn't stay too long as it's not as protected as here but it should be safe for the amount of time it will take to cast the spell." Her voice was husky as her emotions responded to her memories.

James looked up at her from the paper he was trying to memorize and his eyes widened as he responded to the look on his wife's face. He leaned forward and kissed her as Harry covered his eyes with his hands. He was right, they took him up to bed not long after that.

* * *

The clearing looked different on the cold October dawn than it had that warm autumn afternoon, but it was still beautiful in an almost otherworldly and ethereal way. The leaves of the oak trees were almost gone, the winds of the harsh Welsh autumn stripping them early. The grass was almost totally buried under the fall of brown, red, and orange leaves; that close to the waterfall and the small river, the small glen never lacked for water, and the moisture in the air kept it vibrant and fertile year round. The lightening sky made the shadows play eerily and the mist rising from the waterfall dampened earth made swirls of magic that billowed softly in and out of the thick forest. Lily lay Harry down on the thick wool blanket that James had spread out at the very edge of the glen and kissed his sleeping head softly before pulling James to her and kissing him. His arms drew her closer and he deepened the kiss, anxious to show her how much he loved her and how deeply he was vowing to keep them safe.

The loud call of an owl returning from a night of hunting brought them to the present and they both sighed and returned to their task. "You have it memorized, James?" Lily asked in barely a whisper, unwilling to break the preternatural silence of the glen with speech before they had to.

He murmured against her soft cheek, "Yeah, I do. Let's get this over with. I don't feel as safe outside of the Fidelius."

Lily carefully un-wrapped Harry from the thick cloak she had bound him in and picked him up. He stretched, his little face scrunching up, his arms going up over his head while his torso twisted and his knees drew up to his chest in complaint at losing the warmth of the cloak. He was dressed in a plain white woolen robe with no metal or modern materials, his bare feet pulled up inside the long robe as he complained loudly but wordlessly at being awakened so early and with such disregard for his physical comfort.

Lily and James both laughed at the disgusted look Harry gave them before standing up and moving together to a large flat rock that was close enough to the small waterfall for the spray to coat them all with a silvery mist that sparkled and glistened in the first rays of the rising sun.

Their outer cloaks and shoes had been discarded on Harry's blanket at the edge of the clearing so Lily and James stood together in robes of pure white wool, simple ties of braided cord wrapped around their waists, all three nude under their robes. The three could have been from the ancient times themselves as they wore garments that would have aroused no comment from the druids that inhabited the woods long before the Normans, the Vikings, or even the Saxons invaded the forests of England and Wales.

As the pink and orange rays of the breaking dawn colored their plain robes, Lily and James held Harry between them, each with a hand on his head, the other arm linked together and holding the sleepy baby cradled safely. With their arms intertwined, they were holding each other as well as their son, drawing strength and support as well as giving it. Together they chanted the long and difficult incantation, feeling their magic swell deep from within them as they began the ancient chant. There was no one there to witness the little family as the magic deep within the forest of his ancestral home gathered in support and comfort of James the rightful son and heir. Shades of his ancestors glided through the mist to swirl around the trio. With each beat of their hearts, the pure golden glow surrounding the trio grew and pulsed.

"Alwn ar 'r Dduwiau at achlesa 'r 'n ddieuog buchedd rhyngom. Cadw 'u 'n ddihangol chan unrhyw a ddeisyf 'u amhara. 'm hud , 'm buchedd , 'm enaid ardystia at amddiffyn 'u." The strong tenor of James' voice blended in the ethereal silence of the glen with Lily's melodic alto to fill the hollow with the magic that grew ever larger within them. The spirits that flowed within the deepening mist went unnoticed as the light surrounding the living group pulsed larger with each word spoken.

James felt surrounded and awed at the weight of centuries that seemed to grow with each phrase they spoke. "Alwn ar 'r Dduwiau at achlesa 'r 'n ddieuog buchedd rhyngom. Cadw 'u 'n ddihangol chan unrhyw a ddeisyf 'u amhara. 'm hud , 'm buchedd , 'm enaid ardystia at amddiffyn 'u." The clearing was bright as the noonday sun now, Lily and James both closing their eyes against the brightness. The very air seemed to pulse and hum with magic as they began the final chant to seal the protection upon their innocent child.

Row upon row of spectral shapes grew upward from the ground, distinct figures of witches, and wizards as each reached a ghostly hand toward the trio in the middle of their magical circle. Each specter floated with a hand upon the head of the one in front of them, the inner row with their hands touching James, Lily, and Harry. Thousands of powerful magical beings floated, lending their magic and love for the protection on the innocents, blessing their descendants. Lily's voice cracked as the pure magic surrounding them began to overpower her senses, overloading her until her husband was holding her up as well as Harry.

James forced the third incantation out around the pulsing magic that swelled and threatened to burst out of his very skin. "Alwn ar 'r Dduwiau at achlesa 'r 'n ddieuog buchedd rhyngom. Cadw 'u 'n ddihangol chan unrhyw a ddeisyf 'u amhara. 'm hud , 'm buchedd , 'm enaid ardystia at amddiffyn 'u." The last syllable was barely a whisper of remembered sound as James slowly sank to the ground, joining his son and wife in the darkness of unconsciousness.

As the three lay blissfully ignorant upon the ground, the spectral forms of millennia's worth of Potters continued to pour magic into the protective spell until their magic was spent and they seeped back into the ground to continue their eternal rest, the ancient magic of the five hidden and long forgotten ley lines that converged in the glen slowly recharging their magic until it should be called forth once more to protect the Potter line.

* * *

The trio had slept most of that Halloween morning after the two adults had managed to awaken enough to safely apparate back home without splinching themselves or Harry, but by noon Harry was tired of entertaining himself and was hungry and cranky. James was entertaining him in the living room with animated stuffed animals that he was making move with lazy swishes of his wand while he reclined on the old sofa, about half asleep. Lily had roused enough to shower earlier and was now busy in the kitchen fixing sandwiches for her son and husband when the floo alarm sounded and Sirius' voice called out.

"Hello the house. Let me through you lazy layabouts!"

James pushed himself up on one elbow enough to flick his wand at the fireplace and release the wards to allow his best friend into their home. "How do you know that we're layabouts, Padfoot? Have you been spying upon us as we sleep?"

"Yeah, didn't you know, I'm a psychotic stalker just waiting for my chance to attack. Oh wait; I'm the axe murderer, right? I always get those two confused somehow."

James just chuckled at the ridiculousness of his friend while Harry squealed with glee and threw his hands up, demanding to be picked up and entertained by his godfather. Lily called from the kitchen wanting to know if Sirius was staying for lunch.

"No, I just stopped by to see if Peter was here. I went by his flat earlier and no one was there. He didn't leave a note and I haven't heard from him since day before yesterday so I'm starting to get worried about him. I'm not sure we did the right thing making him the secret keeper. I worry that if Voldemort gets hold of him he'll roll over rather than even try to protect you. After all, how trustworthy can a rat animagus be; I mean he truly is a little rat you know?"

Lily came into the room with a platter of sandwiches in one hand and a jug of pumpkin juice in the other. She had a stack of plastic cups tucked under one arm and a spray of napkins showed in her pocket. Sirius leaped up to help her while James just yawned, cracking his jaw loudly and painfully.

Sirius wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at the tired pair and snidely commented, "Just what has both of you so tired today? It's afternoon after all, and even I've been up a while."

James was trying to explain around yawning and eating a sandwich, but Lily just smacked the back of his head and muttered about the lack of manners in all males of the species.

"Hey, I resemble that remark. And I'm not even eating yet." Sirius protested as he scooped Harry up onto his lap and fed him a bite of sandwich. Lily snickered at him and told him a little of what they had accomplished that morning. "We were up before dawn and went to the Potter estate to complete an ancient protection ritual that I found. It's just a last resort measure so I'm not going to explain it too much to you. I still have a lot of work to do on it before it will be complete and protect us all, but meanwhile, I wanted every little bit on Harry that we could do."

Sirius nodded his understanding and finished eating before leaving to once more look for Peter. And when he found the little rat he would demand that the bugger let him know every day that he was all right and where he would be or he'd damn well find someone else to help while they recast the Fidelius charm.

* * *

Pettigrew had been waiting for two days for a private audience with his Lord. Ever since he had been recruited in his sixth year at Hogwarts he had been spying on Dumbledore and the other members of the Order of the Phoenix, but he was too well known and too valuable to expose so he had to wait to report until it was just his Master and perhaps Bellatrix in the Manor. He had always known the other three only tolerated him because he was in their dorm. When Severus Snape had recruited him and provided potions and spells that allowed him to finally master the animagus transformation, Peter had repaid him by spying on the daft Headmaster and his other roommates. He had provided the information that allowed Snape to convince the '_omnipotent_' Albus Dumbledore that Snape had truly repented of the horrific life of a Death Eater when in fact, Snape was a double agent, and the Dark Lord himself had wanted him placed him at Hogwarts and in the Order, and was carefully feeding the old man just enough information to trust the greasy bastard. And now, Peter would have the last laugh and show those imbeciles that he was truly the best Marauder of all. He would have revenge for the years of them barely tolerating him and making jokes at his expense. He would show them how powerful he really was and they would rue the day that they mocked him and began to use him.

"My Lord," Peter groveled on the filthy floor, kissing his Master's robe in reverence. "I can give you the blood traitor Potter and his Mudblood whore. They have hidden under an ancient spell, but I know the secret and can take you there."

An unholy cackle of glee broke the silence of the decrepit old manor and the two plotted and planned. At the first stroke of midnight on Halloween night, Voldemort and Pettigrew disappeared to reappear on the front step of the old gate keeper's cottage in Godric's Hollow.

With an inhuman scream of satisfaction, Voldemort blew the front door inward, surprising the two sitting close together on the faded old sofa. James pushed Lily off as he stood, grabbing up his wand from the coffee table in front of him. He fired a reducto out of the gaping hole in his front wall and screamed at Lily. "Go, take Harry, and run. I'll hold him off!"

Lily scrambled for the staircase, throwing bludgeoning hexes over her shoulder as she scooted up the stairs, staying as close to the wall for protection as she could. She could hear the sizzle and crackle of spells and the crashing of furniture as a fierce battle took place just behind her. With a single-minded determination that gave her tunnel vision, she ran full out down the hall and threw open Harry's bedroom door, dropping her wand as she scooped her screaming son to her breast.

James, meanwhile, was being overpowered and driven back by the sheer force of Voldemort's spells. He was a very strong wizard, but he lacked the ruthlessness and the sheer power that several dark rituals had granted his now not totally human foe. He was holding his own though as he made a strategic retreat towards the kitchen and the back door, hoping he could escape and then help his wife and son from outside. His mind repeated the mantra, "Must save Harry and Lily, must save Harry and Lily, must save Harry and Lily…" in a never ending chant that seemed to cause a responding and strengthening pulse of his magic with each repetition. He never noticed that Peter Pettigrew, the penultimate traitor had snuck in through the back door and sent a weak stunner that hit him directly between the shoulder blades. He spun in place to shoot a slicing hex at the opponent behind him but nothing came out of his wand. He looked down and saw his own body lying crumpled, lifeless and staring on the floor while his feet disappeared into his own form.

He turned around to find Voldemort laughing and turning toward the stairs where he could hear his son still screaming and Lily yelling something about wards and being unable to leave the room.

James turned from the beam of white light that was heading inexorably toward him, lunging to pull his ghostly feet out of his crumpled body, and willing his spirit up the stairs to defend his wife and son. He screamed in frustration before finally managing to completely separate himself from his physical body and flung himself up through the ceiling and the floorboards of his son's room just in time to see Voldemort cast the Killing Curse at Lily.

With a scream of "NO!" he grabbed onto his wife's soul and dragged her back to earth before he coiled the two of them around his screaming son. He cradled his two loves in his ghostly arms and pulled their heads down onto his chest, hiding them from the unnatural creature with the blazing blood red eyes that cackled with unholy mirth while his wife's lifeless body lay sprawled beside them on the bedroom floor.

Lily shook off her shock at what had happened and the fact that both she and her husband appeared to be ghosts. Her single minded determination that her son would survive now blazing with a fire of righteous indignation at the fates and the being that had just orphaned her precious baby boy. She could feel her magic strengthening and blending with James' and then, while the beast before them made crude jokes to the despicable excuse for a human being that they had entrusted their very lives to, she could feel hundreds, if not thousands of other ethereal beings lending their magic to form an invisible shield of love around Harry.

By the time Voldemort had aimed his wand again, the layers of love around the baby had made a virtual fortress of invisible magic. His high, inhuman voice sibilant and hissing, Voldemort screamed once more, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

A sickly green light spewed from the end of his yew wand and hit the shield of love surrounding the boy. The thin beam collided with the ancient magical force of thousands of Potters and shot back to the caster at the speed of light. A flash of light shot through the shield and entered the forehead of the small boy, causing a strange lightening shaped mark, and rendering the child unconscious. Pettigrew screamed in horror as his master's robes crumpled, emptying as a wraith like swirl of noxious black murkiness formed above the suddenly empty clothing. The long yew wand fell to the floor as the teeming miasma swirled malevolently around the boy, still looking to gain entrance to the unprotected mind of the child.

Another pulse of pure golden light blew the ceiling upward and the walls outward, forcing the black cloud to flee or be totally destroyed. Pettigrew found himself outside the house, literally blown through the walls and out of the first story of the now destroyed house. He felt something hit him in the head and looked stupidly at his former Master's wand as it lay on the ground amongst the burned and charred remains of the walls of the house. It took several seconds before the sounds of the wards crashing and the sound of Muggle sirens coming nearer before he shook himself, slipped the wand into the pocket with his own wand, and then disapparated with a loud crack of displaced air to find a deep hole to hide in.

Harry had just begun to whimper as the deep rumble of a large motorcycle split the night air. Screams of anguish alerted the small boy to the presence of his beloved godfather and he roused enough to scream in earnest from his place under his destroyed crib in the debris of the first floor.

* * *

James knew that his son had survived and that he had somehow been blown into the boy's head in the flash of magic that had split Harry's forehead open. He hoped that Lily had been brought with his… 'Essence' if you will. He knew that he was dead and that he had refused to pass over in order to save his wife and son and he knew that he had kept Lily from passing over just as she was separated from her body also. But he didn't know how he could survive as a ghost while fully contained within his toddler son's body and if his presence, and Lily's if she was also here, would drive the poor boy schizophrenic or if he could interact with him in any way. He might just fade out of existence without the boy ever being aware of his presence. He wished to all the gods that he knew what had happened and what would happen now but he supposed that all he could do was sit back and wait for what was going to happen, as he surely had no control over anything now.

He managed to access enough of Harry's consciousness to look through Harry's slowly blinking eyes later that day. He was looking up the nostrils of Albus Dumbledore for some reason. He urged Harry to turn his head as the view wasn't helping any and when Harry turned he recognized Minerva McGonagall with a particularly pinched expression upon her face. He swiveled his head as the old Headmaster seemed to be placing him in a large basket.

Harry's hand reached up and found a thick parchment envelope as Dumbledore finally moved enough for James to recognize where they were. James had never wished so much for a wand at that moment so that he could blast that twinkle eyed monster straight into the seventh depth of hell. How in hell had the old coot managed to circumvent their express wishes and leave their innocent, helpless, vulnerable baby boy with those indescribable excuses for human, those piles of worthless excrement!

In spite of all of their efforts, despite the express wishes of every document that they left, that manipulative old bastard had left Harry at the Dursley's!

* * *

AN: I hope that you enjoyed this rather long chapter. I wanted to get the preliminary back story out before the real story begins. Just how different will life be for baby Harry if James manages somehow to help him at the Dursley residence? And did Lily survive too? Let me know if you are interested in my continuing this story or if I should just keep working on the other two. Thank you to all of you who read this and a big thank you for everyone who takes the time to leave a review. It feeds my muse.


	2. Chapter 2: Awakenings

A Father's Love

By Teacherbev

Disclaimer: : I am not J.K. Rowling, I am not a multinational bookselling company, nor am I a multi-million dollar movie company, so I don't own anything that you recognize. I am a retired former teacher who likes to twist plots and play with characters, so enjoy.

Summary: AU Dumbledore told Harry that those we love never truly leave us. What if that statement was truer than even he ever imagined? No Slash.

AN: Thank you for all of the reviewers who pointed out that Lily could not have conceived in May and had Harry in July. I have four children and six grandchildren so I can only claim that the dreaded disease 'sometimers' has caught up with me. In actual fact, I was spacing and just counted wrong. And for the several readers who inquired, I stabbed my hand with a very sharp knife while on pain killers for a broken knee cap and cut my left hand from the outside almost half way across and deep enough to see the bone. It severed the nerves from the two outside fingers and I still don't have full use or feeling in my little finger, which is only the 'a' and 's' keys so nothing really useful. And after almost a year, I have near normal feeling back in my ring finger, but the rest of the outside still feels half numb with sharp stabbing pains sometimes, and pins and needles all the time. But it is getting better and typing is not quite so painful any more.

"speech"

'mental speech'

Chapter 2: Awakenings

The white nothingness in which he floated ebbed and whirled in meaningless patterns as he –how did it know he was a 'he'? – existed seemed to last for an eternity before it began to have flashes of colors and disjointed sounds. Time was endless, no beginning and no ending until finally he grew enough consciousness of self to begin to have coherent thoughts once more.

'James…my name is James…' was the beginning of self awareness and sometime later it became 'I am James and I must find….Lily…and Harry…' but his thoughts were chaotic and disjointed as the mist in which he floated, until one day with startling clarity it all came crashing back into his conscious mind as the image of a small boy giggling and laughing while saying 'DADA!' while being held tightly in the arms of the most angelic creature he had ever seen, clarified in the white mist and opened the floodgate of memories and emotions.

"HARRY!" As he screamed the name of his beloved son, the avalanche of memories, magic, and emotions crashed over him bringing him back from the edge of non-existence where he had simply existed for so long.

Waves of grief and pain shredding his very soul, he wallowed in misery until he could wallow no more and throwing off the miasma of self pity in which he was drowning, he forced his will into grim determination and a single minded resolve that he would find his wife if she was also ensconced in their son's mind and then he would use his formidable will, single minded determination and overwhelming need for revenge into making his son's life the best, and the longest, it could be.

He could hear his son's thoughts but they were still baby like and concerned with vague thoughts of hunger, tiredness, loneliness, and loss and, regrettably, James was unable to interact in any way other than to send wordless waves of love and comfort to the distraught mind that surrounded him. He had expended so much of his fragile magic to witness Dumbledore leaving his defenseless son at his despicable sister-in-law's house that he had almost ceased to exist and it had taken endless months of near non-existence for his fragile magic to rebuild enough for his sense of self to finally re-emerge into coherent and purposeful thought.

As he floated, he plotted and planned and schemed. First, he had to find out if Lily was indeed within Harry's mind with them. That must be his first priority, that and keeping his presence as quiet as possible until his son's mind matured enough to handle the existence of his parent's consciousness within his own without splitting the fragile and still developing psyche and personality of his beloved child. Then, with his adored Lily's help, they could begin to nurture and teach Harry everything that he would need to know to survive both the disastrous placement at the thrice dammed Dursley household and then what his boy would need to survive in the vicious and often deadly wizarding world of politics and manipulations as an orphan without a powerful family structure to help him.

James felt his magic strengthening but it was so slow and the increments so tiny that he despaired of ever being able to interact with his child in any meaningful way ever again. But each and every day he searched as quietly and stealthily through the mind of his toddler boy, drawing the excess magic that his son had no need or control over to his own soul, using the toddler's magic to strengthen and nurture his own gradually repairing and re-growing magical core. The flashes of Harry's life becoming clearer and more devastating as each day passed and his frustration at Dumbledore and Voldemort grew, until he began to wonder which one of those heartless monsters he hated the most.

It took several years, but James began to garner enough magic to strengthen and nurture his own magic and began to affect the mental landscape in which he resided, which coincided with the necessary maturity in Harry's developing mind to finally cope with some limited and carefully controlled contact to begin. He carefully, each night as Harry slept, built a mental replica of their small and love filled home. He carefully fed memories over and over to Harry to counteract the verbal abuse and neglect that he could sense happening each day. Each night, feelings of hopelessness and despair from the day were pushed aside with the memories of Mama, Dada, and his Uncles Paddy and Moony and their unconditional love and support. James reinforced his son's ego and self worth, battling each night for his son's mind after the battles of the day with Petunia and Vernon.

After what seemed an eternity that was actually several years, he figured out how to attach his own 'eyes' to Harry's to be able to witness brief episodes of daily life at the Dursley's without losing his own magic as he had on that fateful November day. He had to almost instantly disassociate himself from his son's young mind in order to not burn out his synapses with the absolute fury the short glimpses he witnessed of his son's existence in the Dursley house made blaze within his own soul. Thanking his father's insistence that every well bred young wizard know how to protect their own mind from unwelcome intrusion, he used his Occlumency to keep his own emotions under control as he dealt with his righteous anger and frustration over his inability to change his son's miserable existence yet.

It took longer for him to figure out how to hear what was going on and much less time to strengthen his resolve to begin changing his son's meager existence as quickly as possible. He turned his frustration at being an impotent witness to the horrendous verbal abuse and neglect that Harry experienced every day into finding Lily. He began to teach his boy every night in his dreams about how to shield his own mind and how to compartmentalize the hatred and vitriol he was exposed to each and every day behind barriers to keep it from affecting his son's fragile self esteem. He made his teaching into simple games that they played together every night and felt pride swell his heart as he heard his son's giggles and delight even as the beginning of rudimentary mind shields formed. As much as the Dursley's battled Harry down each day, he spent the night rebuilding and strengthening him against external forces, both Muggle and Wizarding.

He had almost given up and decided to reach out to Harry during times other than the dream world he had created for the boy, when he caught the first hints of his beloved wife's presence. He dove with all of his might following the moving wisps of her mind though the floating mists with the single minded determination of a World Class Seeker after the most elusive snitch ever. He swerved, twisted, turned and stretched toward her, willing with all of his re-grown magic and will to just reach her. He knew if he ever made the first tentative contact he would be able to bring her to him and then her formidable intellect, which frankly made him feel like a simple first year in comparison, would be able to solve the difficulties ahead of them to help Harry with everything he would need to survive the sharks he was living with.

'Almost, almost…there she goes…just a little more…stretch, James you can do it!' he kept up a steady stream of self encouragement, his own cheerleader as he dove and twisted through the swirling rainbows of Harry's subconscious mind, the flight to catch his wife's fleeting soul the most important Quidditch final he had ever flown. With a final 'Aha!' of success that made him feel as if he had just won the Quidditch World Cup singlehandedly, James grabbed the elusive tail of Lily's soul and dragged it to him with every bit of magical strength he could bring to bear.

If he could shed tears he would have, his adored Lily swirled around him until her consciousness recognized the 'feel' and 'taste' of her husband and her magic and soul reached back for him, until intertwined and interwoven into a single double soul they rejoiced in the reuniting of their 'essences' in a way they had never been able to while still alive and in separate corporeal bodies. Floods of happiness and joy flooded Harry's mind and filled the little boy with all the love, hope, and comfort he had been so sorely lacking since the death of his mother so long ago. He enjoyed the dreams he had each and every night and the pretend games with his father, but now he regained the warm embraces of his mother too.

* * *

"Boy, get over here and clean up this mess! And don't you dare put any of it in that little freaky mouth of yours! I'll be watching you, boy…" Petunia was shrieking at the little inhuman monster that those bastard freaks had dumped on their doorstep almost four years ago with an expression that was barely human. If her lip had curled any more, she would have been unable to breathe through her long and pointed nose. She kept a jaundiced eye on the undernourished, filthy little monster as he used a small hand brush and dustpan to sweep up the remains of her precious Dudley's 'accidental' drop of his full bowl of cereal. Of course, it couldn't be that her little darling wanted chocolate cake for breakfast instead of his cereal; no it must have been the little freak's fault that the bowl fell off the middle of the table and onto her pristine kitchen floor. After all, it was always the little fiends fault. His unnaturalness just screamed 'freak' in her perfectly normal household and grated on her delicate nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard.

It was just too bad that they had brought the monstrosity into their kitchen that morning before reading that blasted letter from the manipulative old bastard. If they had read that bringing him into their home sealed a …magical….contract to raise him they would have loaded him into their car and dropped him off at the nearest police station as an unwanted and abandoned baby and no one would have been the wiser. Even the merest thought of all that unnaturalness made her stomach clench and the bile begin to rise in the back of her throat as an involuntary shiver of revulsion swept down her spine. How dare they dump their problem on decent folk to take care of… and then trick them into having to keep it?' She had that though each and every day, and it never ceased to twist her stomach into knots and squelch any guilt she might have felt over their treatment of a toddler and now a small child into smaller and smaller pieces until, after almost four years of daily torment, it was almost non-existent and very easy to ignore completely.

Petunia watched Harry with an eagle eye as he looked wistfully at the full dustpans dripping with cereal that he was dumping into the dustbin, not a hint of guilt at knowing how hungry the almost five year old might be and not even caring that it was now the beginning of the third day since the boy had last eaten anything. She waited until he had found the last milk slick piece of cereal and dumped it before grabbing him by one boney arm and dragging him down the hall. She threw his cupboard door open and literally tossed him into the spider infested and dusty dank dark space without the slightest hint of human compassion for the child she was abusing. As she slid the latch closed, she hissed, "If I don't hear a peep out of you today while Dudley is at preschool, we might let you eat tonight." Without another thought about what she had just done, she marched upstairs to hurry her son up in getting his shoes on to take him to the expensive and prestigious preschool that he attended. As she climbed the stairs she smiled, planning ahead to stop off after the morning class to treat her precious baby boy to his favorite fish and chips before coming home and spending the afternoon gossiping in the park with the other mothers while they watched their children play on the new park equipment the estate had just installed, never sparing a single thought for the other small boy in her care once he was out of her sight, locked safely in his closet.

* * *

Harry was sitting in the dark, his head dropped down on his knees, his little arms wrapped around his legs, rocking slowly as he hummed quietly to himself. He knew his aunt and cousin were gone all afternoon to the park and his uncle was still at work so he felt safe making a little humming noise to himself. He closed his eyes and pretended the arms wrapped around his knobby little knees belonged to his father and the soft humming was his mum singing a soft lullaby to him when he felt a 'warmth' spreading throughout his thin body. It felt familiar and yet strange all at the same time. He had been feeling it off and on for a long time and it seemed to be getting stronger over time but he really didn't know what it could be and he had never felt it as strongly as he was now.

He picked his head up, tilting his head slightly in the dank darkness, willing himself to see something that might account for the wonderful feeling that he was now experiencing. He was afraid to move around too much, the feeling had always disappeared much too quickly every time before and he was afraid to do anything that might make it disappear now.

'Harry…Harry…can you hear me, baby?' He twisted his head again, trying to hear the soft man's voice again. He bit his lip, sucking it into his mouth as he hoped and prayed that it was real and not more of his 'freakiness' coming out. He knew that all kinds of strange things happened around him but he never did any of them, even if his aunt and uncle always blamed him and punished him for them. He had his dreams every night and they helped loads, but sometimes it was just so hard to push away the mean things Petunia and Vernon said every day. His dream daddy told him he never had to call them 'aunt' and 'uncle' since they didn't act like family and Harry didn't have to think of them as his 'family' because Harry had a wonderful daddy in his mind every night and his daddy told him every night that those people were wrong and Harry was a wonderful and fantastic little boy and what they said didn't count, because what they thought didn't matter at all.

He held his breath, hoping to hear the nice man again, he recognized the voice as the one belonging to his daddy in his dreams, but he wasn't sleeping now, was he? 'Harry…can you hear me, son?' His heart leaped up into his throat, the man had called him 'son', could it be? Was his daddy here now and not just in his pretend dreams at night? Did God finally answer all his prayers and send his Daddy back to him when he was awake and not just dreaming? He took a chance and softly whispered, "Daddy? Are you here?" He crossed his fingers, and then he crossed his bare toes too, just in case.

Harry felt a flood of joy and happiness fill up all of the empty spaces that had built up over the last three years and smiled, giggling happily as he felt truly happy for the first time that he could ever remember while awake at the Dursley house.

'Yes, Harry, Daddy's here and I need you to listen carefully to me. Can you do that for Daddy?' The voice was soft and more pleasant that Harry could ever remember anyone ever talking to him before, at least while he was awake that is.

"Ah hunh, Daddy, I'm a big boy. Where are you, I can't see you? Did you bring Mummy, too? Are you angels?" Harry's head was turning back and forth in his cupboard, searching in vain for some where someone could be hiding in the tiny space.

'I need to explain so don't talk for a little bit, Harry bear, and I'll try to explain it all to you, okay?' From his times searching through his son's mind, he knew that his son had inherited his mother's formidable intelligence and the almost unquenchable thirst for knowledge that came with it. He thanked the gods because he was certain his son would need every bit of that intelligence as well as all of his father's cunning and stealth to survive the next few years intact. Thankfully with the nightly Occlumency games and the encouragement he had given in the way of 'dreams' each and every night, the Dursley's hadn't managed to break the boy's spirit and imagination, even though it was obvious that they were trying to stomp any self esteem or self worth out of the small boy. They were just too stupid and unimaginative themselves to devise an effective brain washing campaign, as well as too lazy to effectively carry out such a plan had they been able to devise it. So James had been able to effectively counteract their pettiness and viciousness with a well thought out plan every night. As well as encouraging his son's development and imagination to their fullest potential during their nightly dreams. But now it was time to begin a more active involvement with Harry's life, now with Lily at his side, so to speak, they could concentrate fully on teaching Harry what he needed to know to survive to adulthood.

Harry leaned back on the wall behind his little filthy cot and smiled, the bright green of his eyes almost glowing in anticipation as he waited patiently for the voice to speak to him again. The Dursley's had managed to teach the little boy patience while locked up in a boot cupboard for long hours to such an extent that his attention span verged on abnormal for a child of any age, let alone an almost five year old. And his daddy's games about concentration and focus had honed that ability even further.

'This is going to be hard to understand, Harry but I need you to listen to everything, and then I will answer your questions if I can, okay?' Harry just nodded solemnly and crossed his arms after wiggling his bum around to get as comfy on the cheap mattress as possible, getting comfortable for a long story. After all he had nothing else to occupy his afternoon until Petunia and her fat lard of a son managed to waddle home from the park much later.

James began with a simple explanation of the wizarding world and how it was hidden and different from the 'Muggle' world that his uncle, aunt, and cousin belonged to. Harry had already been well exposed to the realities of magic in his memory dreams every night, but this was the first time that James explained that the things that Harry had experienced in his dreams were a reality in the waking world and not just his imagination. He briefly touched on evil wizards and how they liked to hurt people, cringing when Harry nodded knowingly with a soft comment about Vernon and Dudley being like that too.

Taking a mental deep breath, James then went on to explain about how an evil wizard was trying to hurt Harry and his Mum and Dad, and how Mummy and Daddy had been killed that night when Harry got the funny cut on his forehead. Harry already knew from his dreams that Petunia and Vernon's version of a drunk and worthless daddy and a 'slut' (whatever that was) of a mother was wrong and just another lie the two tried to get him to believe.

'Daddy didn't want to leave you and Mummy so when the evil wizard killed me, I refused to leave you and went up to try to protect you, but I was too late to save Mummy.' A painful sob wrenched out of Harry's mouth and his eyes glistened as tears threatened to spill down his little cheeks as Harry thought his Mummy was gone forever.

'No, no Harry, Mummy's here with me too. She refused to leave you because she loves you just as much as I do. Her magic isn't quite strong enough yet for her to talk to you when you are awake, but she'll be able to see you in your dreams with me soon.' Harry had been looking down, but his head flew up at that and he sucked in a deep breath. "You love me and Mummy does too? My dreams are real and not pretend?" The hope that filled Harry made his eyes almost glow green in the dark cupboard.

'Yes, Harry, we love you so much that we refused to go to heaven and stayed here to be with you.' James waited patiently for Harry to process all that he had heard and was rewarded with a flash of joy that filled his soul and made all the efforts at regaining his consciousness and the long struggle to contact Harry all worth it. Who needs the afterlife of heaven when your son can fill your soul with such unconditional love?

"So where are you? Can I see you?" Harry looked so hopeful that James hated to disillusion his son, but he had to explain it all to Harry before his toe rag of a sister-in-law and her lard boy came home. It wouldn't do for her to hear Harry talking in his cupboard after all.

'Harry, I need you to listen some more to me. Can you do that for me?'

Harry just nodded and sat up straighter.

'I am not an angel, and I'm not a ghost…in fact I'm not sure exactly what I am. But the night the evil man killed Mummy and Daddy, he tried to kill you too. And the dark spell he cast at you made the scar on your forehead, but it also forced Daddy and Mummy into your head with you. So you don't have to talk out loud to us, just think your words to us and we will hear you. That way you can always talk to us and no one else can hear you. For now, only I can talk back to you, Mummy can hear you but her magic isn't strong enough yet to talk back to you yet, but she will be able to soon, I promise. Can you try to talk to me using just your mind and not your mouth for me?'

'Like this Daddy?'

'Just like that, son…just like that. Mummy says she is so proud of you and I am too.'

Harry's breath hitched as he basked in the glowing feeling of parental support and pride for the first time in his existence.

* * *

Over the next few months, Lily gained enough magical cohesion to speak to Harry and the three of them spent long hours in Harry's mind, bonding with each other and forming inseparable bands of magic and love. James was able to quickly teach Harry to control bouts of accidental magic and Lily began teaching Harry to meditate so that the harsh and cruel taunts of Vernon and Petunia washed off of his fragile psyche like water off the feathers of a duck.

Soon, Lily and James were able to wrap Harry's mind with their own when Vernon or Petunia began their emotional abuse and Harry just left his conscious mind behind and enjoyed a visit with whichever parent wasn't shielding his psyche until he had to come back once more.

Petunia lay awake at nights, the barest niggle of worry and doubt creeping in about what the wizarding world would be capable of doing to her beloved family if they had actually managed to drive the boy insane. His totally blank face and emotionless expressions when she or her husband was berating the brat had struck a deep chord of sheer terror within her, after all, no matter how much Vernon denied the existence and power of the magical world, Petunia knew without a doubt about what it could do and how vengeful an irate wizard could be. At her sister's wedding, Vernon had gotten drunk and started spouting off about the 'unnaturalness' and 'freakiness' of wizards and it had taken a mere swish of a pointed stick from that black haired menace, Sirius Black, and Vernon was stunned, bound and deposited high up in the nearest tall tree before Lily or James even noticed anything had happened to disturb their reception.

And another swish from Remus Lupin's wand and she and Vernon had been in his little car halfway back to her parent's house where they were living. She remembered the incident clearly, but Vernon remembered nothing of the events or even the fact that they had been at the wedding at all. Whenever she had tried to bring up that afternoon ever again, all he could remember was taking a drive in the country and stopping at some little pub for some, 'excellent fish and chips'. She stopped trying to talk to him about it, but she remembered and now she worried about what else they could do. Especially as nothing that had happened had been more that a minor inconvenience to the wizards, they had been swatted like an annoying fly.

She lay awake and sleepless at night now, worrying about her husband and son, and wondering if she should try to find help for the boy before he retreated completely. She read every article she could find on autism and childhood schizophrenia, and hoped she could convince whoever eventually came for the brat that the curse that had made the scar had caused the emotionless blank mask that was so frightening to witness. She knew she couldn't get help for him without admitting what she and her husband had done, and she had no doubt that even the normal British constabulary wouldn't believe they treated the boy like some wild and viscous animal because his parents were magical. She had heard stories about the wizarding prison from her sister and her friends, and while she knew the authorities wouldn't send them there, she didn't imagine goal would be much better. She tried to squash her fears but each night in the dark of midnight, they grew and festered. It was only in the bright light of day that she could convince herself that her fears were groundless and that she and Vernon had done nothing wrong. After all, the freak wasn't actually human was he?

* * *

Because Lily and James resided within Harry's mind, they could teach him and reinforce their teaching directly, as well as make his dreams as full of love and adventures as they had imagination for. He still had to learn things for himself, but they instantly knew if he fully understood what they were explaining or not, and they were eventually able to bring up their own memories to show him what they meant as well as tell him.

Vernon tried harder and harder to squash the spirit of the little boy, but was frustrated more and more as his verbal assaults seemed to just cause the boy's face to glaze over as if he wasn't even aware of what he was saying to him anymore. Petunia followed her husband's lead, but her heart just wasn't in it any more. However, Harry's now almost total control over 'unnatural' occurrences lulled them both into believing that they had finally 'squashed' the magic out of the little monster. Vernon was smirking one evening after a long day at work to his wife as the boy sat in his small cupboard, unseen and unheard, just like the Dursley's liked him to be.

"Well at least we managed to kill that unnaturalness'. There haven't been any 'incidents' for months have there, Pet?"

"No, not since last fall, maybe now we could take the chance and take up that loony old lady on her offer to watch the boy for a day. Dudley wants to go to the beach for his sixth birthday and I wasn't looking forward to telling him he couldn't go because we couldn't leave the 'freak' alone that long even if he is locked up in his cupboard." She didn't say anything to Vernon, but she was really freaked out by the boy now and really needed time away from him. She was counting the days down until he started first form next fall. The less time she spent watching his blank face, the better her nervous system and digestive system felt.

"That sounds splendid! Why don't you make arrangements with her and I'll make sure to have the car washed and waxed for Dudley's big day. It's hard to believe our boy is turning six and so big and strong. It seems like just yesterday we brought him home and now he's getting ready to go to first form in September."

Their conversation slipped to other things and neither one of them paid any attention to the almost silent but sharp intake of breath from the small cupboard at the idea that he was finally going to spend a day away from his awful relatives made the small boy smile widely in his dark cupboard.

* * *

Nothing untoward was noticed by either Mrs. Figg or the Dursley's on the first day that the Dursley's had left their nephew with the batty old cat lady so they, in their own narrow minded way, thought nothing had happened. But Harry had noticed something odd about the old lady almost immediately. The old lady had given him a small glass of juice and sent him out the back door to go and play with her cats while she started some laundry. As soon as he was outside, Harry sat down with his back next to a tree and contemplated the multitude of writhing cat bodies that were clambering all over his legs.

"Mummy, what's that yellowish light that I could see all around Mrs. Figg?"

"I think that Mrs. Figg isn't all she seems to be. That pale yellowish color is a very weak aura."

"An awra?"

"An aura, Harry Bear, is something that all magical people have, the brighter and larger it is, the stronger the magic in the person. That very pale and small yellow means Mrs. Figg is probably a squib. And before you ask, a squib is someone born in a magical family that doesn't have enough magic to be able to use it at all. Remember how Mummy explained about Muggle borns like I am?' At Harry's nonverbal noise of agreement, she continued, 'Well, a squib is the exact opposite. Magical family but not enough magic of their own so most squibs are turned away or leave the magical world to live as Muggles. It's easier since it takes magic to do most things in wizarding households and most wizards look down on squibs as some kind of lesser person. I don't know if Mrs. Figg knows about you or not so we'll have to be careful that she doesn't know that you know about her until we know if old Dumbledore put her here to spy on you.'

'Okay, Mummy. But then that cat isn't really a cat is it? See, its kinda greenish around it, just like Mrs. Figg is pale yellow.'

'That's my bright boy, you are right. At least two of those cats are really part kneazle, it's a kind of magical creature that looks a lot like a cat and can even make kittens with them. I think those two aren't full kneazle, because then they would have a tail like a lion's and not a cat's but I'll bet they are half. Now, here comes Mrs. Figg, we'll talk later when we're back at the Dursley's. Enjoy the day out in the sun, and remember, I love you bunches and bunches.' His mother's presence faded away and Harry enjoyed playing games with the cats and talking to the old lady about nothing all day without a Dursley in sight. And that night, Harry's dreams were filled with memories of his father playing as a boy with the various magical creatures that lived at the vast Potter estate, including several litters of kneazles and crups.

* * *

The two elder Dursley's remained oblivious through the beginning of summer, but it all changed on Harry's sixth birthday. Lily and James had been plotting and planning for months and Harry was more than happy to set his parents plans into action.

"Get up you little brat, the trash bins need emptying and then bring down the towels and the sheets to get washed, you lazy lay about!" The pounding on his cupboard door and the screeching of his aunt signaled the beginning of his normal day. But Harry had a sly and knowing smile as he began the long planned assault on the Dursley's. He and his parents had picked this day particularly in celebration of his birthday, since the Dursley's certainly wouldn't be giving him a present, so he was giving himself one at their expense.

He stuffed his feet into Dudley's old trainers and pushed the small odd shaped door open, ducking his head to miss the large spider web that covered the top. He crept quietly into the kitchen behind Petunia and began to whisper in a soft sing song, stretching out each word until he was almost singing them.

"Mamma's getting stronger…she's coming…she says…s-s-s-soo-oo-oon!"

Petunia twirled around so quickly she almost flipped herself onto the slick kitchen floor as she goggled at her nephew. "What did you say?" She was too surprised to even call him a derogatory name. Harry smiled a sick little knowing smile that caused shivers to flow up and down Petunia's spine in fear; his malicious gleam was even more terrifying that his usual blank mask could ever be.

"Mummy's mad. She said she's coming and Daddy's coming too."

"You little freak, your Mother and Father are DEAD! The drunk bastard that spawned you killed them and left you here you little monster! How dare you say such things to me! Just forget your chores and go back to your cupboard and be quiet. And no food today!" She jerked her nephew's arm harshly, forcing the boy to turn around and then she shoved him toward the hallway and out of the kitchen door.

Harry merely took a couple steps away from his aunt and turned around again to look at her again. For a moment, Lily's face superimposed itself over little Harry's and his black hair flashed auburn red and wavy. Petunia passed out on the floor with a loud thunk as her head hit the unrelenting hardness of the linoleum.

A screaming and hysterical Dudley ran next door and the neighbor called the paramedics who could find nothing wrong with Petunia and the emergency room doctor prescribed rest and less stress. Petunia quietly prescribed several small sips of cooking sherry each day to wash down the Prozac the chemist dispensed.

Harry watched it all from his cupboard, snickering to himself as he listened to his Mum's cackles of laughter and his father's deep baritone chuckles of glee.

* * *

Petunia had taken to watching Harry out of the corner of her eye but he had said nothing else bizarre to her for several weeks and her panic and fear had subsided enough for her to convince herself that she must have imagined it, after all the doctor had said she was slightly dehydrated and had obviously been working too hard taking care of a house and her little boy. She finished off her prescription of Prozac and convinced herself that she hadn't really heard or seen anything extraordinary that day after all. The boy's blank mask seemed to have disappeared for the most part and only reappeared when Vernon was at his absolute worst, which wasn't happening nearly as often since the boy no longer reacted, Vernon was more willing to just ignore his existence. That and the stash of cooking sherry she had hidden in the top of the china cabinet helped every afternoon. She explained that away as just to settle her slightly nervous stomach; that was perfectly normal after all for someone as sensitive as she was, wasn't it?

So she was really looking forward to an afternoon off shopping and pampering just to herself. She had dropped Dudley off at his friend Pier's house for the day, Vernon was working on a big proposal for work at home and in anticipation of a fat bonus for the new contract he was sure would be his, he had given her a couple hundred pounds just for her to splurge on herself.

"Yes, dear, I'll be fine all by myself. The boy won't be any trouble if he knows what's good for him, and I'll make sure he knows it. Now you just take off and enjoy yourself. You deserve it, Pet, so go and enjoy." Vernon patted her back once more, gave her a peck on the cheek, and heaved a sigh of contentment as he shut the door behind her, happy that whatever had been bothering his lovely wife seemed to have disappeared once more. He walked down the hallway to the little study area they had made off on one side of the lounge for him and made a little bouncing step as he anticipated his huge success with the proposal he was currently working on. He failed to notice the small blue glow that flowed out of the cracks of his nephew's cupboard that formed into small magical fingers that slid the bolt back and opened the door stealthily and silently.

Harry waited until Vernon was firmly working on his papers, his attention fully engaged with his task before sneaking up behind him and whispering just loud enough for the enormous man to hear.

"Daddy's coming for you…Daddy says he's coming for Dudley just like you come for me." His voice was somehow more menacing coming from a five year olds mouth than it should have, but it caused a stab of pure fear to spike through Vernon's chest as the words registered on his feeble little mind.

He twirled around to catch the brat, but Harry had disappeared back into his cupboard before Vernon had managed to react enough to turn around. So Vernon flayed his fat arms back and forth in panic but there was nothing there and his face lost all of its florid coloring. His chest heaving, he gasped for breath as the sharp stabbing pains in his chest intensified until he thought for sure he was having a heart attack.

He managed to get his lungs under control and swayed over to the entertainment center to swig deeply from the bottle of scotch he had hidden in it from Petunia. It took several large swigs before he calmed down enough to sit back down and replay what had actually happened. Surely he had just imagined that, maybe whatever had made Petunia have that bizarre hallucination last month was actually contagious and he had just caught it too. Yes, in his small mind that made perfect sense, so he shivered mightily and then turned around, forcing his mind back onto the proposal he was working on and banished all memory of the 'incident' from his perfectly normal and sane mind.

Harry soundlessly shut his cupboard door, using a swirl of magic to latch it once more, and then giggled as he cancelled the silencing spell from his feet that his father had so patiently taught him. He giggled behind his hand and lay down to rest, the magic he had expended making him exhausted.

* * *

Life continued on at the Dursley house but things had changed and they would never go back to the way they had once been. At least not for the Dursley's. Harry began first form with Dudley at the Little Whinging Grant Maintained School the first Monday in September and the daily exposure to the hatred and vilification spewing from the older Dursley's decreased even more dramatically. Harry signed up to be in an afterschool reading program that ran at the school until 5 p.m. every afternoon and stayed there every minute he was allowed. And Petunia and Vernon were just as happy to have the little reminder of their 'hallucinations' not be there to remind them of how those bizarre things really hadn't happened after all, had they?

Harry and Dudley had originally been placed in the same first form classroom, but the teacher quickly requested the two cousins be separated. Petunia and Vernon were brought in and the two available teachers and their teaching styles were explained to them. Mrs. Riley had been a teacher since the schools inception almost thirty years ago, and taught the basics, a traditional and proper English education. Miss Tindal was a new second year teacher and her classroom was described as more of a 'total learning environment' where each child was allowed to flourish and develop at their own speed and ability. Naturally, the Dursley's wanted the perfectly normal in everything and Dudley's education was no different, no free expression and limitless imagination for their precious boy. They quickly signed the paperwork and their precious Dudley was moved to a room with a loving but strict old style teacher who ruled her classroom with thirty years of experience and his bullying and temper tantrums were quietly and efficiently eliminated without his parents being any the wiser.

Harry remained with the young, free spirited teacher that allowed self motivated students to flourish and the environment combined with his parents mental support allowed Harry to blossom and grow beyond anything the Dursley's could ever imagine. Of course, that probably wasn't what Dumbledore had in mind when leaving him with Muggles, but who said Dumbledore actually knew what was best for any child, let alone Harry Potter?

* * *

Harry didn't make many friends, he wasn't particularly outgoing and his social skills were sadly lacking after five years at the Dursley house, but he didn't particularly mind or even notice the lack. In many ways he was much too old for his peers, the keen mind and curiosity combined with his parent's undivided and full time presence in his mind precluded any desire for meaningless and trivial childish games. That's not to say that Harry didn't play, but with the rich and fulfilling dreamscape available every night, real life in the mundane and frankly boring Little Whinging estate he lived in paled by comparison. James had spent a lot of his pampered childhood being taken to fascinating and very educational places by his doting mother and father and he shared these memories willingly and happily with both his wife and son. When you can spend your dreams exploring the magical side of the Parthenon or the wild jungles of Peru, the play park isn't much draw.

Harry soaked up everything around him and within him like a sponge. The Potter's had a family affinity for wandless and wordless magic that was a closely guarded secret from most of the wizarding world and James eagerly looked forward to Harry's magical core reaching an adequate size to begin training him. Because so little magic was expended in the normal 'accidental' magic that young wizards and witches manifested, Harry's core was growing at a steady but remarkable rate. And having his father and mother internally helping to shape and mold it didn't hurt either. And because of his parents' legacy of being magically strong people, the circumstances of his conception in a ley filled glen, the results of the protection spell with its drawing of so much of his ancestors magic or something else, Harry had a much larger magical core than either Lily or James had ever heard of and it was growing at a steady and sure rate every month.

* * *

Lily and James were sitting in their favorite spot by the lake at Hogwarts discussing the next year or so in Harry's life as Harry was in class one day. It was easy to make the mindscape into anything either one of the elder Potter's either remembered or imagined and this spot had always been a favorite of both of them.

'So do you think we should try to contact someone from the wizarding world yet, dear?' James was trying to nuzzle Lily's neck as she spoke, but the witch was just ignoring him, or at least she was pretending to.

'I don't know. I thought we were going to have to and get Harry out of this blasted house, but I can see both sides a little bit now. Besides, how would we contact anyone? I haven't seen anyone even remarkably magical except for the old cat woman, and I still think Dumbledore has her spying on Harry.'

'Yeah, I think you're right about Mrs. Figg, I can't see any other reason for her to have settled here, most squibs like to be at least close to magical facilities and there's nothing here. But I wonder what happened to Sirius and Remus, I mean, why haven't they found Harry yet? They both know Vernon's last name. And Remus knows how to navigate in the Muggle world; it wouldn't take him long at all to find the house.' Lily turned and gave James a small kiss before gently pushing him away from her now sloppy wet neck.

'I worry about that too. Do you think Voldemort has won? I mean I saw him disappear when the blast hit him, but he wasn't dead and who knows what that evil bastard did to himself to look so inhuman, perhaps he couldn't be killed like that? Plus all of his Death Eaters were still on the loose. When I get my hands on that slimy little bastard Peter, I'm gonna…' James still had problems keeping his absolute fury at the fourth Marauder's blatant betrayal but he was working on it.

'I know dear, but it's kind of hard to kill someone when you are incorporeal you know. So revenge on Peter will have to wait for the afterlife, if at all. Well then, we'll just stay here until we know what's going on with the wizarding world. Petunia and Vernon are horrible but they are at least marginally better than Death Eaters. And it's really just Vernon now; Petunia just seems to be going through the motions.' Lily giggled about her sister's growing lack of touch with reality, 'I think my visit broke her!'

'Hmmm…let me think about that for a bit….' James smirked as Lily smacked him on the shoulder for his comments. Of course since they weren't really there it didn't hurt at all, but it was the principle of the thing, or so Lily kept saying.

'Well, I'll agree to holding off on trying to contact someone, at least until next summer as Harry isn't really around the Dursley's much at all, but we need to step up the campaign against them then so that they are better trained before next summer and don't back slide any. I don't want to have to go back to spending all my time undoing all the harm they managed to do every day. Oh, Lily, I am just so thankful that I found you.'

Lily drew her husband to her and talk became unnecessary as they expressed their love for each other more fully than two separate entities ever could.

* * *

After the peaceful autumn, the Dursley's never expected their perfectly normal little existence to shatter into a living hell. And all at the hands and mouth of one innocent looking little green eyed monster.

Lily and James had been spending long hours in limbo learning how to access their magical cores. They had been surprised to discover that they really weren't ghosts per say, nor were they truly incorporeal, since their souls were apparently intact but housed within their son's body. James was the first to regain control of his magic, but Lily wasn't far behind, after all, James had already done it and could explain to her how to do it too. And then the wonderful discovery that they could force their magic out of Harry and affect the real world in a very limited fashion. They could separate and become a 'wraith' for short periods of time and they both relished the opportunity to interact with both Petunia and Vernon, even if James really wished he had hands to throttle Vernon like he deserved.

Petunia was serving Dudley a huge stack of waffles; the butter and syrup running down into warm puddles on the large plate as she placed it on the table in front of her visibly salivating son. She turned to scrape the leavings from the last bit in the bowl from the waffle iron and dumped it plain and cold onto a paper plate and turned to slap it down in front of the boy when the ghostly image of her sister seemed to ooze out of the boy and form a scowling fully grown woman that was glaring fiercely at her.

Harry smiled happily at his aunt and said simply, "She's here!"

The thing opened its mouth and spoke to her sister. "I would have loved your son and raised him as my own if anything had happened to you. Eternal hell and damnation on you, I curse you from beyond the grave, Petunia Evans Dursley!" Lily collapsed back into Harry, her magic expended with the effort for speech and a visible aura, but the deed had been done successfully.

Her mouth opened and shut several times as Petunia processed what she had just witnessed. She twirled so quickly she fell into a chair, landing on only one hip. She grabbed the plate from in front of her son and quickly dumped half onto the paper plate with the meager scrapings and plopped it in front of the boy before standing and running for the bathroom to throw up every meal she had eaten for the past month.

Dudley was so shocked by what he had seen that he just shoveled his food into his mouth without comment and didn't even notice the gleam in his cousin's eyes as he dug into his own plate.

The incident so frightened Petunia that she didn't withhold food again from her nephew, she never wanted to see her sister's ghost again. She also changed from cooking sherry to wine cordials that afternoon at the grocers.

* * *

Harry was working his way through the books in the school library in a systematic and methodical manner, but he was enjoying sharing them with his parents as the three read them together, especially the rather nice selection of non-fiction books. After the first couple of times the librarian witnessed the small boy stretching up to reach chapter books well beyond his grade level, she sat beside him and asked him to read aloud to her. His small voice steady and confident he complied and even explained about the science book he had been enjoying. Shaking her head at the difference between the boy and his Neanderthal cousin, she shook her head and went back to re-shelving her cart full of returned books. Maybe there was something to that argument about nature versus nurture, after all? It was so hard to believe there was any relationship between those two disparate boys at all.

* * *

Shortly after Harry returned to school from the Christmas holidays, James had Harry creep up the stairs so he would be nearer to Vernon when he forced his magic to make himself manifest to the beached blob of a whale. The pretentious Grandfather clock downstairs in the lounge was chiming midnight when Vernon shuffled out of bed to head to the loo for a drink of water. He stopped short at the ghostly white form floating at the head of the stairs in front of him. He clutched his meaty fist to his massive fist as his mouth opened and closed, a small dribble of drool unnoticed as it dribbled down his massive triple chins and onto his pajama shirt.

"You, you…you're dead!"

"Brilliant as always, Dursley! I knew you could always be expected to grasp the obvious… eventually." James sarcasm went right over Vernon's head as sarcasm requires a modicum of intelligence and imagination to be understood and Vernon was sadly lacking in both. Vernon backed away from the menacing specter, his sloppy slippers losing traction as his arms wind-milled, trying in vain to find something to grab and stop his inadvertent backward fall.

"Arrgh…urgh... mmm…wahhh…" Was all that the huge man managed to vocalize before he fainted dead away and tumbled down the stairs, making the whole house rattle and shake in sympathy as his massive weight collapsed the flimsy risers of the tract home staircase.

The paramedics had to summon the local fire station to extricate the massive man from the collapsed staircase, and unfortunately Harry's little cupboard had been squashed flat so Petunia 

had to move her nephew up to Dudley's play room while her husband recovered from his badly broken leg in hospital. His adamant swearing that a ghost of his dead brother-in-law had caused his untimely tumble down his own stairs was dismissed by the doctors as a figment of the severe concussion the man had sustained in the accident.

* * *

By the time Vernon was released from hospital and the insurance company and the contractors had finished, several long months had passed and Harry was firmly entrenched in the small fourth bedroom upstairs so the downstairs space under the new staircase was transformed into the small walk in pantry that Petunia had always wanted. Dudley actually thrived in his parents neglect. Left to his own devices, he had to learn to entertain himself and without his mother and father indulging in his every whim and encouraging him to mistreat his younger and much smaller cousin, he actually turned to the only other child in the household and began to ask Harry to play with him when his friends were unavailable.

But Dudley didn't mind the loss of his second bedroom much, since it made it easier for the two boys to play together and since Harry adored all the books that Dudley didn't want and Dudley wanted all the action toys that Harry would occasionally play with but wasn't particularly interested in, the two divided up Dudley's former possessions and both were much happier with life.

Nothing was ever spoken aloud about that night ever again, but it was never far from Vernon or Petunia's minds. They both knew that Harry's unnaturalness had not been squashed out of him and had in fact been spread to contaminate their entire house.

The two investigated selling the house and moving but somehow every agent they contacted expressed interest at first but then never made contact with them again. Mrs. Figg was getting tired of calling the old man to send 'obliviators' and so Dumbledore finally showed up late one night and used a compulsion charm on Vernon and Petunia to remove any thought of moving from their home until after Harry returned to the magical world. Unfortunately he never investigated why the two might want to move and so never noticed anything wrong, in fact, he missed the calculating looks an unnoticed small boy was giving him from the crack of his barely open door down the long dark hall nor did he specifiy that Harry's return to the magical world would be at seventeen and not eleven, but oh well. Harry stayed hidded safe behind his mind shields with the full support of his parents, so Dumbledore never even knew the boy witnessed his visit.

* * *

With the spring, Vernon got rid of the cane he had used for so long, Petunia had switched from wine coolers to frozen daiquiris to make it through the day. She was so in fear of her sister's ghost returning that she routinely fed Harry. The more Petunia drank to make it through the day, the smaller and less elaborate her meals became until they were lucky if the meal was actually cooked and not just sandwiches or microwave meals, but gradually Harry gained weight and Dudley lost it. Petunia had even begun buying him clothes and once in a while she forgot herself completely and put a small plastic bag of toys or a small cheap book in her basket for her nephew when she bought the newest outlandish and expensive clothes and toys for her son.

Harry always remembered to thank Petunia when this happened but he really had no interest in the things she brought to him, well except the clothes, he really appreciated not having to wear Dudley's massive and worn out old things any more, and her absentminded meals were better than what he had experienced before so he was content with them. Vernon spent longer and longer at Gunning's, which helped his career somewhat but did nothing for his wife's slow slip into an alcoholic stupor.

* * *

Vernon finally had to begin to bring work home to make sure that his wife didn't pass out on the couch every afternoon and this late July afternoon was no different. Thankfully, his long hours last spring had paid off and with his new promotion, working from home was actually more efficient for him. But this afternoon, he had a strong feeling that something was hanging over his head and he kept looking around the room with a barely concealed feeling of dread. He would never admit it, but he was beginning to believe in magic more and more. He might have always given Petunia lip service about her sister being a witch, but really, all that hocus pocus nonsense wasn't truly real, it just couldn't be.

He twisted around in his chair once more and spotted his nephew sitting in a corner, his nose buried in a massive history book. 'Well, nothing unusual about that. The boy is always reading something…at least that can be explained as normal. After all, there are other children who like to read…' his thoughts turned back to his paperwork.

A small noise made him turn around again and glare at his nephew for disturbing him when he noticed the boy wasn't there anymore. He turned around and surveyed the entire room, unwilling to have the boy be anywhere he didn't know about. As he turned back around, he gasped at the bizarre sight of the top half of his sister-in-law's body rising out of the stack of papers in the middle of his desk. She might have been standing in the desk, since she was only visible from the waist up.

Lily stretched out one thin finger and poked Vernon in the chest; well, she would have if her finger didn't sink halfway in to the thick layer of fat.

"You need to sober up Petunia, she's out of control, and Harry will be hurt soon. Be a man for once in your life and take your head out of your arse and grow a set. Deny it no more, for we are watching you from beyond the grave and there will be an accounting soon."

Satisfied that her message had been received, Lily slumped back into incorporeal form and returned to her son's head. She had been worried lately that Petunia's drinking would endanger her son's life through neglect or Petunia accidentally burning the house down or drinking and driving, so she had convinced James that she should make Vernon do something about his wife's burgeoning alcoholism.

Unfortunately, it was one too many shocks for Vernon's badly overstressed circulatory system. He lurched from his oversized desk chair and stumbled to the phone on the wall beside his desk. 

He punched in the numbers for the paramedics and then slumped down the wall to the floor, the phone hanging unattended from the long curled cord as he clutched his chest in agony.

Vernon grumbled mightily and lengthily at the very strict diet and exercise regime that the doctor had insisted he follow, but Petunia was adamant and unfeeling. The near death from coronary artery disease of her husband had shocked her sober and she had gone through the house and thrown out every bit of alcohol she had found. She spent every afternoon while the boys were at school at her local alcohol abstention program and soon became their star participant. She was obsessive about Vernon's health now and even had Dudley on a much more nutritious diet. However, her health consciousness and reborn sobriety didn't expand to cover her blasted nephew at all and she was still prone to handing him a slice of old cheese and a bit of stale bread or two rather than anything even remotely nutritious for a growing child.

* * *

Harry had lain low for several weeks, until the pattern was reestablished and hit at Petunia once more, he had grown accustomed to regular meals and was bound and determined for them to return, especially now that she was sober and actually making meals once more. Petunia was walking down the hall, carrying a large basket full of clean linens on her way to taking them up the stairs when Harry opened his cupboard door in front of her and sang,

"_Petunia, Petunia_

_Smelly old bafoon-ia_

_Nose like a big old balloon-ia_

_Gonna marry an old baboon-ia!"_

The blood left her face as she blanched more than usual and she dropped the basket, spilling towels and sheets all over the floor. Her hand flew to her mouth as her eyes widened impossibly in horror.

"What did you say? How do you know that…you can't…she wouldn't…she can't…" She leaned against the wall for support.

Petunia slid down the floor and sprawled limply on the floor, incoherent noises coming from her mouth as she trembled in fear and horror. Harry got a full meal that evening and every meal thereafter.

* * *

Harry would wait and just add a simple comment every once in a while, always keeping his aunt and uncle on the edge of a nervous breakdown without ever saying or doing something that anyone else would remark upon. Petunia was so nervous, she took to peeping around corners before entering a room, and she insisted that all the windows and drapes be tightly fastened. She locked every door, even in the middle of the day and chewed her fingernails down to the quick. She never returned to her drinking, but without her daily alcohol group meetings she might not have survived Harry's childhood. From worrying about his sanity, she now worried about her own. She spent more and more of each day making sure the house, the garden, and her entire life were perfect and without blemish.

Vernon not only stuck to his diet, he developed ulcers and was unable to keep much of anything down. His skin sagged and his face turned an unhealthy grey as he spent more and more hours at work, never bringing work home again after that fateful afternoon, afraid to set foot into his own home anymore when the boy was likely to be awake.

* * *

The next few years passed as the Dursley family tried to maintain the shell of normality they had always claimed to be, but in reality they had never achieved. Vernon spent inordinate amounts of time at Grunning's, working his way up the corporate ladder with a sheer determination to succeed at something resembling normalcy in his life, as he sure didn't have normal at home. He had lost much of his blustery bad temper along with the massive amounts of weight over the years and now worked hard to not stand out except for his hard work and the steadily increasing income he brought home to his family.

Petunia obsessed over sobriety and cleanliness to the point of withdrawal from almost anything else. She went through the motions and most of her neighbors and the boys' teachers at school would proclaim about how she was such a wonderful and doting mother, but the façade was only shell deep. Underneath, she was going through the motions and playing the role, knowing deep in her heart that her thrice damned sister would reappear if she ever made another mistake or slipped up and let her true nature show again. She resigned herself to merely existing until 'they' came and removed the boy from her home once and for all. And she had a calendar hidden deep underneath her stockings in the smallest draw of her bureau, marking down the long days, weeks, and months until the boy's eleventh birthday. For just as they had come for her sister, they would come for him too, and she could hardly breathe with anticipation as the date finally drew closer and closer.

Dudley had turned out halfway decent with only a physically absent father, a mentally absent mother and his very bright and overly well educated cousin as role models. He would never be a scholar, but his academics would allow him a normal life, and his physical activities had increased in direct proportion to the amount of weight he lost, so he might actually have a chance at playing interscholastic football when he went to Stonewall Comprehensive next year. After all the trials and tribulations of his early years, he had turned out much better than anyone would have ever suspected.

Harry Potter, however, was the bright and eager child that his parents would have raised if they had survived. Well educated in both Muggle and Wizarding subjects, his mindscape with his parents had allowed him a childhood that no one could have ever imagined possible. James and Lily had begun to teach him small magics over the last year and he had taken to them with an eager willingness and facile mastery that made both spirits proud and more resolved than ever before to help their boy overcome the many obstacles that had been placed upon his strong and healthy but too young shoulders.

* * *

So on a sunny July morning in 1991, Harry ran down the stairs when he heard the mail flap open and the sound of the daily mail hit the small doormat that Petunia placed in front of the door to keep the dust from the mail from contaminating her clean hallway floor. He snatched up the small pile and shuffled through them as he headed into the kitchen where the sounds of Petunia could be heard making breakfast already.

As he slipped into his chair and his aunt placed a nicely arranged plate of fresh fruits, yoghurt, and granola in front of him, he held up the oddly oversized and heavy parchment envelope to show her he had finally received his Hogwarts letter. Petunia heaved a huge sigh of relief that the day had finally arrived and actually reached over and patted the boy on his shoulder.

"You'll be going then, will you?"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia. I will need to send them a response but then they should be sending someone to come and fetch me. I won't be coming back ever again. Mum and Dad had a house in Wales that I can spend the summers at now that I'm older. There's a caretaker that can watch over me." Harry smiled at the thought of finally living on the Potter estate in real life and not just in his dreams. He looked forward to being able to do magic with a wand and meeting other witches and wizards his age. He had experienced both his mother and father's years at Hogwarts many times at night and wished for nothing more than to experience the wonders for himself.

Petunia absentmindedly wandered over to her purse and pulled out a pen and a small notebook which she handed to Harry, sitting down, her expression still blank as she thought of the life ahead of her and her son and husband, and how soon they could move away and forget the very existence of the boy and his world once and for all.

Harry smiled to himself as he wrote out his reply to Professor McGonagall. Boy was that snooty old witch going to be surprised when he got there.

_Dear Professor McGonagall_

_My name is Harry James Potter and I would like to attend Hogwarts next term. I live with my Muggle Aunt and Uncle so I will need assistance to acquire my school supplies._

_I know that Professor Flitwick was my mother's favorite professor and wonder if he is still teaching at Hogwarts? If he is could he perhaps be presumed to fetch me for a trip to Diagon Alley? I would like to meet him and hear stories about my Mum at school if that would be possible._

_I am aware that I have a trust fund to pay for educational expenses, so if Professor Flitwick could bring my Gringott's key (I don't know where it is and neither does my Aunt) than I can purchase my supplies myself._

_Any day this next week would be fine and I don't need prior notice to go, so whatever day would be most convenient would be fine. I will remind whoever comes that I do live in a Muggle neighborhood so appropriate Muggle dress is essential. _

_Looking forward to meeting you soon,_

_Harold James Potter_

_Lord Potter_

_Godric's Hollow, Wales_

Harry smirked to himself as he imagined the streeler's nest he would stir up with the information in his letter and all of the things he supposedly wouldn't know about. He laughed out loud and handed the pen and tablet back to his aunt as he went outside to look for the owl he knew would be waiting patiently for his answer.

AN: Hope you enjoy this very long chapter once again. I hope I made the progression with James and then Lily becoming coherent again understandable and dealt satisfactorily with the Dursley's. The next chapter will begin with the storm that greets Harry's most unusual letter at Hogwarts and then on to Diagon Alley and from there to Hogwarts. I probably will not follow much canon friendships at this point, this Harry is too well rounded and secure either to need a jealous prat like Ron as a friend or to put up with Hermione's nagging and bossiness much. But don't worry, he still won't like Malfoy and Snape will never know what hits him. Thank you for reading and supporting me in my own obsession.


	3. Chapter 3: Meeting Professor Flitwick

A Father's Love

By Teacherbev

Disclaimer: : I am not J.K. Rowling, I am not a multinational bookselling company, nor am I a multi-million dollar movie company, so I don't own anything that you recognize. I am a retired former teacher who likes to twist plots and play with characters, so enjoy.

Summary: AU Dumbledore told Harry that those we love never truly leave us. What if that statement was truer than even he ever imagined? No Slash.

Chapter 3: Meeting Professor Flitwick

The bright sunny late July morning started exactly the same as most summer mornings for the staff at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The staff occupied themselves with their individual tasks and pursuits until time for the splendid brunch that the house elves put out each day. The morning passed before the staff, at least those that were present in the castle since it was the summer holidays, leisurely made their way to the Great Hall for the midday meal. Headmaster Dumbledore requested that everyone in the castle be present for midday meals unless they were occupied with something that could not be left. Naturally, Potions Master Severus Snape was usually the only staff member that could reasonably claim that he could not leave at a critical time since he was brewing for the hospital wing, but even he couldn't use that excuse too often.

So on this beautiful Scottish midsummer's day, the large round table in the otherwise empty Great Hall was occupied by most of the current residents of the castle, at least the alive and human ones that is. Dumbledore was flanked, as usual, by Professor McGonagall on his left and tiny Professor Flitwick on his right with Snape, Pomfrey, Sprout, Vector, Filch, and Madame Pince filling in the other spots. Predictably, Professor Trelawney had simply ignored Professor Dumbledore which none of the other staff actually minded, Hagrid was busy with his 'innerestin' creatures, and there was no DADA Professor hired yet. The other professors had all left the castle for some holiday time away and so were not present.

Just as Professor McGonagall reached for the teapot to refill her empty tea cup, a nondescript grayish brown barn owl swooped overhead and dropped a small muggle envelope into her Mulligatawny soup, splashing Dumbledore's beard and Pomona Pomfrey's lap with the hot yellowish, lumpy soup. With a sharp cry of dismay, McGonagall rescued the now drippy mess and quickly removed the single sheet of thin lined notebook paper, discarding the soggy mess of the envelope on the not quite as pristine as it once was tablecloth.

With a sarcastic snarl twisting his unpleasant face, Snape bit out. "What blundering dolt sent that to the Great Hall instead of to your office, Minerva?"

With a quick glance at the neat name gracefully spelt out in the first line, she made a small squeak of surprise and then stated firmly. "Harry Potter has sent his acceptance letter."

Snape audibly growled as his lip twisted even more, accentuating the deep frown lines that made his face look much older than his actual age. With a dark glare of pure loathing he muttered, "Oh joy, the bastard's son is coming to school."

Unfortunately, his opinion seemed to be a decidedly minority one as the rest of his colleagues expressed differing sounds of anticipation and pleasure. Flitwick bounced happily on his cushioned seat as he clapped his hands together and demanded that Minerva read the short missive aloud, his high pitched voice squeaking in his excitement.

She shook the thin muggle notebook paper once importantly and then spoke clearly, her brogue showing in her excitement.

_Dear Professor McGonagall_

_My name is Harry James Potter and I would like to attend Hogwarts next term. I live with my Muggle Aunt and Uncle so I will need assistance to acquire my school supplies._

Snape curled his lip on one side wordlessly and then muttered, "Spoiled pampered brat…"

Dumbledore's eyes seemed to sparkle even more in the sunlight as he remarked on how polite the boy sounded. 'Yes, yes leaving the boy with his muggle relatives had been a particularly brilliant idea on his part. Keep the boy humble and well grounded…' he mused, stroking his beard as he contemplated how he could mold young Harry into the perfect Gryffindor hero that the wizarding world would need.

_I know that Professor Flitwick was my mother's favorite professor and wonder if he is still teaching at Hogwarts? If he is could he perhaps be presumed to fetch me for a trip to Diagon Alley? I would like to meet him and hear stories about my Mum at school if that would be possible._

"…just like that moronic git of a father. I knew that he would be…"

The twinkle in the old Headmaster's eyes dimmed somewhat. 'How in the world did the boy know anything about his mother? Perhaps Lily had been more forthcoming about her times at Hogwarts with her sister than he has suspected….'

_I am aware that I have a trust fund to pay for educational expenses, so if Professor Flitwick could bring my Gringott's key (I don't know where it is and neither does my Aunt) than I can purchase my supplies myself._

Dumbledore lost his last twinkle as he sat up straight at this latest revelation. 'How did Petunia find out about Harry's Gringott's account…and is it just his trust vault…surely his spy among the goblins would have notified him if anyone had accessed the boy's money. That money would be needed to rebuild the wizarding world after the boy's death as he vanquished Voldemort once and for all. He let himself show a small smile on his aged face, 'after all, the boy will not survive another encounter with the Dark Lord, now will he? Yes surely they would both perish and leave him as the guiding light for the new wizarding world.'

"…exactly like his arrogant, bullying git of a demon spawned…"

_Any day this next week would be fine and I don't need prior notice to go, so whatever day would be most convenient would be fine. I will remind whoever comes that I do live in a Muggle neighborhood so appropriate Muggle dress is essential._

_Looking forward to meeting you soon,_

_Harold James Potter_

_Lord Potter_

_Godric's Hollow, Wales_

"…thrice damned father. **Lord **bloody git** Potter**." Snape finished with pure venomous spite dripping from his silky voice.

The only sound present in the Great Hall after the poisonous speech from Snape was the echoing hum of seven people gasping in shock and surprise, followed by a cacophony of conflicting conversations as each one there tried to make their shocked outrage at Snape's vitriol and their comments about the astonishing letter heard.

Privately, Dumbledore agreed with his potion's master. He would have to salvage this situation before it spiraled even more out of his control. He needed the boy to look up to him as a mentor and savior so that he could mold the boy into a pure Gryffindor willing to sacrifice himself for the 'greater good'. How could he salvage this situation? He must take control and minimize the damage as quickly as possible. So he stood up and shouted 'silence' and just like the students, everyone fell silent and turned expectantly to watch their leader. Dumbledore turned and leveled a mostly faked disappointed glare at his youngest professor, a stern frown that promised a painful conversation later about the inappropriateness of Snape's comments and another long lecture about transferring the sins of the parents onto the innocent heads of their offspring was given without a single word being spoken. Snape cringed slightly down into his seat and carefully blanked all emotion from his face. The old mage knew he would have to take the younger man to task even though he didn't totally disagree with his sentiments. But he could not afford to show his hand this early in the game. He must carefully cultivate his caring grandfatherly visage to both the boy and his staff if he was to succeed in molding the boy to his prophesized task. And really he couldn't allow Severus to be too vindictive; it wouldn't do for the boy to decide it was easier to return to the muggle world than to suffer from the acidic and hateful potion's master. No, no, that would not do at all.

Dumbledore frowned slightly and forced his errant thoughts behind his tightest Occlumency barriers until his eyes regained a small portion of their normal twinkling, all the while thinking about how gullible these dolts actually were. "This does present something of a surprise. I had not thought Petunia was quite so cognizant of the wizarding world and did not believe that she would educate young Harry so thoroughly on our world." He absentmindedly ran his hand up and down his long white beard as he thought about what the wording of the missive could mean for his carefully orchestrated plans for young Harry. He had not wanted Harry to be aware of several of the things that he mentioned in his letter but he couldn't change that now. Hopefully, the boy would still see him as something of a savior for bringing him into the magical world and still look to him for guidance and mentoring, his brow furrowed as he fell silent, pondering how this changed the playing field and how he could best use it to his advantage. 'Hmm, if the boy knew of his heritage and resources, than it would be much more difficult to keep the boy under control especially if Severus torments the boy unmercifully. I wonder if the brat knows of the other schools that would jump at the chance to entice The-Boy-Who-Lived away from Hogwarts. They would dance in glee at the opportunity to slap me in the face with it at every occasion that they could find.'

Flitwick was speaking but Dumbledore was so adrift in his own thoughts that he had to repeat himself to the Headmaster. "I will be most happy to escort young Harry to Diagon Alley. I did so like his mother and it seems as if the boy is much like her." Flitwick squeaked again, finally managing to garner the Headmaster's attention. And without even listening to the Headmaster's hastily mumbled retort about his planning to send Hagrid, the tiny wizard hopped down from his chair and scurried toward the massive doors of the Great Hall, audibly making plans for the next morning as he practically danced in his happiness.

"Filius, I'm not sure that would be for the best…" but the tiny head of Ravenclaw house cut off any further objections that the still befuddled Headmaster could voice as he turned back once he reached the oaken doors, absentmindedly saying over his shoulder, "Must finish off some things so that all day tomorrow will be free to take young Harry for his supplies. Oh, and Headmaster…I will expect his Gringott's key in my office this evening. Oh, I shall have to tell him about the time that Lily…" the rest was lost as the diminutive wizard literally skipped out of the Great Hall, a smile splitting his face from ear to ear as he turned and disappeared down the long stone corridor.

As the rest of the staff unhurriedly left the Great Hall, excited conversations blended into a pleasant and pleasing buzz of excited chatter until only the now twinkle free and glum faced Headmaster and the sourpuss black eyed Potion's Master remained behind. As Dumbledore stood, stretching his tall, elderly body he laid a restraining hand upon his much younger teacher. Some of the displeasure he felt at the astonishing turn of events showed in his blue eyes as he met the man's glaring stare.

"You would do well to speak softly and tread carefully around young Master Potter, Severus. If he is as well informed as that letter makes it appear, he will have the power to make your life extremely unpleasant…he might even reopen the investigation into your past…and things left better buried…if you continue to insist upon treating the boy as if he is his father. A father, I might point out, that the lad probably has no memories of." Without a further word, Dumbledore strolled out of the Great Hall, his hands clasped behind his back as he hummed a tuneless song, hoping that his warning would be enough to get his spy thinking in the right direction. The idea that he might be wise to take his own advice to heart made his gut clench. He needed the solitude of his office to analyze and rethink his plans for the boy's first year. 'Hmmm, maybe if I…no, that won't work…I need to have the young Weasley boy befriend him before the sorting…maybe I can 'suggest' to Molly…' He continued on his circuitous way to his office, plotting and planning the whole way, unaware of the glaring and whispering of the portraits following his movements.

Sitting in solitude in the echoing Great Hall, Severus Snape dropped his head into his hands, his long greasy and lank hair falling in cascades to either side of his now unguarded face. Alone with only his thoughts, he allowed a shiver of foreboding and even slight fear to cross his face. He quickly tossed aside the old Headmaster's warning, 'Surely the brat has no concept of his political power, the old coot is merely trying to scare me away from his golden boy…he couldn't possibly mean it the way it sounded…' lost in his thoughts he shrugged his shoulders, and stood up. With another shrug that straightened out his long black robes, he plastered his usual unpleasant scowl upon his face and strode purposefully out of the Hall and down to the dungeons, pleasant thoughts of what he could do to the thrice dammed demon spawn of James Potter that would soon be helpless in his class and under his strong potion stained thumb making the corners of his mouth turn up in a cruel mockery of a smile.

* * *

Harry looked around the small bedroom that had been his since the night his father's wraith caused his terrified Uncle to tumble down the stairs and let a small satisfied smirk show. He had everything he wanted from the miserable place he had lived at in a small satchel, which he shrunk using the shrinking charm his mother had taught him, and stuck into the front pocket of his blue jeans. He made a stop at the bathroom and applied a hair smoothing charm to his unruly cowlick, followed by a sticking charm that would ensure his thick black bangs covered his scar completely and wouldn't blow off even in a high wind. Just for good measure, he had a faded red ball cap with a Grunning's Drill's logo on it for when they entered the Leaky Cauldron. Both his Mum and his Dad suspected that he would have become some sort of legend or celebrity since he had survived the Killing Curse that old Voldemort had sent after him the night they had been killed. Plus both James and Lily had watched the body of the Dark Lord vanish as they protected their infant son with their immortal souls. He was most likely believed to be dead though both Potter's knew that his soul had survived the vanquishing of his body and that it was just a matter of time before the evil but undeniably brilliant wizard found a way to regain a corporeal form. So it was most likely that the entire wizarding world hailed their son for both surviving the Killing Curse and killing the evil Lord Voldemort. And if the circumstances of his survival hadn't been blown all out of proportion and he wasn't being hailed as an infant savior than nothing had been lost as he didn't really mind wearing the ball cap at all. It would be much better to be prepared for the unreasonable adulation of the wizarding world and not need it, than to be mobbed and hounded because he didn't take the time to be disguised.

He practically skipped down the stairs, barely running his hand along the polished banister, calling out a cheerful good morning to his cousin as Dudley's door opened just as he sped past it. He could hear the soft murmur of voices downstairs so he knew that his aunt and uncle were already down in the kitchen. He had no way of knowing if someone was coming for him today, but he would be ready every morning until someone showed up. After all, he would rather be ready to leave at a moment's notice than have to stay any longer under his 'relatives' roof. Sure they had been much better the last couple of years but that didn't wipe away the memories of all the years before that and truthfully, a relationship based upon fear of retribution really isn't much of a relationship. Harry would only really miss Dudley and he suspected that he really wouldn't miss his cousin all that much once he had made some new friends at Hogwarts. He didn't mind his cousin anymore but they really had nothing in common.

"Morning Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon." Harry said cheerfully as he slid into his accustomed chair, nodding once to thank his aunt for the plate of food she sat down on the table in front of him.

"Looks good, thank you." He picked up a fork and ate a piece of ripe melon, savoring the wonderful taste of the summer ripe fruit as the juice dribbled down his chin as he hastily grabbed his serviette to wipe it before it could stain his clean shirt.

Vernon rattled his paper importantly before setting it down in Dudley's unused spot and turned his full attention on his nephew. "Are they coming for you today then?" He couldn't keep the hopeful note out of his voice as he looked expectantly at the boy that had terrorized his family.

"I'm not sure, but I hope so. I told them any day this week, but I would suspect that someone will show up today."

Petunia sank gratefully into her chair as Vernon nodded his head, a slightly feral smile spreading over his once fat face. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he spoke softly, "You'll not be returning then?"

Harry swallowed a mouthful of strawberry yogurt and nodded in agreement before saying, "I will try not to, but I can't be sure they won't insist upon bringing me home. But if they do, I will have a way to leave shortly after, by tomorrow morning at the latest."

Vernon grasped his wife's hand as they let out identical deep sighs. Vernon continued, turning to face his wife. "It's all set up then, Pet. You call as soon as the boy leaves and I'll sign the paperwork at work and be home as soon as I can clear my desk. I'll stop off at the bank for the cashier's check and the passports and plane tickets. You call the agent and tell them tomorrow's the day. We'll spend the night here just in case someone brings the boy home and then we'll all leave here tomorrow morning."

All three satisfied that their long made plans were fool proof; they turned back to their meals and ate in a contented silence that was broken less than fifteen minutes later by a sharp rapping knock at the front door.

"That's probably for me…shall I get it then?" Harry asked looking at the kitchen clock that showed it was only ten minutes to eight. No one else had ever knocked on their door this early before so it was most likely someone from Hogwarts for him.

As Harry went down the hall, eagerly bouncing on his feet in anticipation; his aunt and uncle followed just behind, walking forward with huge smiles of anticipation upon their usually dour faces. Dudley was just coming down the stairs, his hair still wet from his morning shower and he stopped three steps from the bottom, his face showing his mixed emotions between the thought of never seeing his cousin again warring with anticipation at the new adventure the move would make.

Harry turned the deadbolt, trying to ignore the bantering argument on who had been sent going on between his parents that was in his head, and pulled the door open, a smile of welcome on his face at the sight of the miniature little man standing bouncing on his tiny little feet on the front stoop.

"May I help you?" Harry knew the tiny wizard was his Mum's beloved Professor Flitwick, but his years at the Dursley's and his public school had made him a consummate actor as well as the years of lessons in Occlumency from his father. He had shared most of this parents memories of their times at Hogwarts over the years and the half goblin was just as distinctive as Hagrid in his own way. He looked forward to making his own memories with the tiny professor.

"Yes, yes… and you are Harry Potter…you look a lot like your father but I always loved your mother's bright green eyes." A wistful expression dimmed the cheerful man's eyes before it was replaced by a bright beaming smile that encompassed the Dursley family as well. "I am Professor Filius Flitwick and I have come to take Mr. Potter to Diagon Alley to do his school shopping for Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He looked expectantly at the four grouped before him.

"Are there any questions you would like me to answer before I take young Mr. Potter here shopping?"

"No, no that's quite all right. My wife's late sister told her all we need to know about the school and your…world. Will you be bringing the boy…ah Harry…home tonight or should we pick him up in London tonight?" Flitwick couldn't know the hopeful note in Vernon's voice was that they would be allowed to pick him up so that they could finish their business with the boy even earlier and not anticipation for the boy's upcoming adventures in his new school.

"Well, I had planned to bring Mr. Potter back here tonight, but if it wouldn't be too much trouble…"

"My Uncle works in London, sir and I can just stay at the Leaky Cauldron until he gets off work if we get done too early…He knows how to find the Leaky Cauldron by King's Cross station." Harry quickly interjected, hoping to stay on the Alley longer so that he could do some special shopping without anyone knowing about it and he would need to conduct his business with the goblins at Gringott's without anyone finding out about it and trying to stop him.

Professor Flitwick stroked his chin as he thought, his unnaturally long and crooked fingers showing more of his goblin heritage. He nodded absentmindedly several times as if arguing with himself before answering. "That would be acceptable…it would make my return to Hogwarts easier…yes, yes, let's plan on that. What time would you be coming to get the boy so I can make sure to have him done in time?"

Vernon looked over at Petunia for guidance as he really had no intention of actually picking up the boy.

Petunia quickly filled the awkward silence. "He usually gets off at five but with the London traffic…how about we give Harry money for tea and he can eat at the pub and the barman can keep an eye out for him if Vernon gets caught in traffic?"

Flitwick agreed readily and Vernon made a show of pulling a twenty pound note out of his wallet and handing it to Harry. "This should cover both lunch and tea; can you change it into your money if you need to?"

Final arrangements being settled on for picking up Harry or at least that's what the Professor thought, the two wizards quickly left Number 4 Privet Drive. Harry turned and gave the three a jaunty wave goodbye, the four knowing it would be a lot more permanent than Flitwick imagined.

* * *

Harry could see the faint glimmer of a glamour spell on the tiny Professor when the morning sunrise struck the diminutive figure just right and assumed the little half goblin had not actually dressed like a muggle midget but was actually wearing his wizard's robes.

He smirked to himself as he thought about how astonished the tiny wizard would be if he knew exactly how much magic he already knew and how that knowledge had been gained and exactly who from.

As the two turned into a deserted alley just a block away from Number 4, Professor Flitwick turned to Harry and said, "Now I need to hold tight to you as we are going to be using Apparition to Diagon Alley in a moment. Apparition is a wizarding way of moving instantly from one place to another. You will feel like you are being squeezed through a small tube, it is uncomfortable but I assure you it is harmless and lasts but a brief moment before we arrive. You will be learning to apparate yourself after you turn seventeen. Now hold on tightly and don't worry once we start you cannot let go, the magic won't let you." Flitwick briefly explained before grabbing Harry in a tight hug and the two disappeared from the alley with a loud pop of displaced air.

Harry staggered slightly as the two landed, thankful that the tiny wizard didn't let go of him immediately but allowed him to regain his footing. He looked around at where they had landed and an involuntary "Woooh!" escaped from his lips as he turned his head in every direction, trying to take it all in. Hundreds of witches and wizards swarmed the alley, with children running around and through the crowds, calling out to friends. The whole alley had a circus or carnival atmosphere and most people were smiling and chatting as they stopped to chat with relatives and friends.

Shops off all sizes were squeezed into every available space and both bizarre and mundane items competed for selling space as shop clerks called out specials over the din of the crowds.

"Dragon's liver…on sale today only" competed with "Hot pumpkin pasties…cauldron cakes…fresh pumpkin juice" and a particularly shrill voice yelling "Pewter cauldrons…brass scales…stirring rods…get all your potion's supplies here" to make a delightful first impression of the wizarding world.

Flitwick took hold of Harry's elbow and guided him through the swarming crowds and towards an open area with outdoor tables and chairs as well as a small indoor area. A sign hanging overhead proclaimed the name of the small café as 'The Famished Fairy'. Most of the gleaming tables were empty, the brightly colored outdoor umbrellas shining in the morning sunlight, but a few early morning shoppers were already eating. "I though perhaps we could start with breakfast and I could answer some of your questions before we go to the bank since it is still quite early and we have the entire day to spend here."

Nodding his acceptance since he was too busy trying to see everything still, Harry let the diminutive Professor guide him to the table furthest from the other diners and the entrance to the small cafe.

* * *

The Dursley's stood frozen for several long minutes after the two wizards shut the door and disappeared down the cement walkway before Vernon grabbed Petunia in a tight hug and twirled her around, his exuberant shout of "He's gone…we're free!" was rivaled by the whooping scream of glee that Petunia let out. Dudley came down the last couple of steps, carefully avoiding his mother's swinging feet and joined in the celebration, his momentary feelings of sadness at the loss of his cousin overwhelmed by the anticipation of the upcoming move and vacation.

Petunia reluctantly pushed Vernon out the door while admonishing him. "Go on with you…the sooner you reach the office and sign the papers the sooner we can be shut of all this unnaturalness and on our way." Vernon practically danced down past the little ceramic garden gnomes to his car, a smile lighting his face from ear to ear and a delighted humming accompanied his departure that lasted the entire way to work. He smiled at drivers' who cut him off, waved his hand at a tired and startled work crew as his car crawled past the construction zone and gave the parking attendant a ten pound note for parking his car on this glorious morning.

Petunia shooed Dudley into the kitchen to eat his breakfast while she grabbed the cordless off the phone table in the hall. She hit the number 7 (for heaven) on the speed dial and practically bounced on her feet waiting for the agent to pick up. She had forgotten how early it was though, so she was only able to leave a message after the annoying beep.

"This is Petunia Dursley. We would like to leave tomorrow and will be staying tonight at Vernon's sister's house. You have the number there. I will be at home for a while making the final packing but after that you should call Marge Dursley as I will be out. Thank you." She hung up the phone and swiftly made her way up the stairs and pulled down the ladder to the attic. She carefully made her way up the steep stairs, after all it wouldn't do to fall on this most glorious day and break a leg. She carefully slid the pre-packed suitcases down the ladder and looked around at the stacked and packed boxes with a smile. Good thing the little freak hadn't actually entered the house or he might have noticed that almost everything was packed up in boxes that were stashed out of sight in the attic and the garage. Harry had assured them that no one would think it amiss that that car was out on the drive since the garage was stuffed with boxes and crates.

With the suitcases safely in the upstairs hallway, she dashed into her bedroom to grab the overnight case and began filling it with the toiletries and personal items they had not been able to pack up since they would need them every day. She called to Dudley to quickly shower and dress while she stripped the beds and sealed the bed linens into the last of the boxes that had been hidden in the spare bedroom. She was just stretching the last of the packing tape on the last box when Dudley came into the room, hair still damp from his shower, a smile splitting his face from ear to ear.

"Dudikins, you can begin hauling the cases downstairs to the front hall. Your father will be home as soon as he can and we can head off to your Aunt Marge's as soon as we're all loaded up. The movers should be here tomorrow and will pack up anything we've missed. Check your bedroom and make sure you haven't missed anything you will want for the next few weeks before we get to the new house." She reached up and patted her son's cheeks, her smile almost as broad as his was. He scampered off down the hall and grabbed up his knapsack that he would be taking on the plane and grabbed his gameboy and all the cartridges that he had been using as well as the stack of comic books he had bought just for the trip. He couldn't help a feeling of nostalgia as he said goodbye to the only home he had ever known.

* * *

As the two wizards waited for their breakfast to be delivered, the tiny Professor couldn't wait any longer, he just had to have the answers to the questions that had been circling in his head since yesterday.

"So Harry, how did you know that your mother thought of me as her favorite teacher? And did your Aunt tell you all about our world or did you meet someone else?"

Luckily the three Potters had planned out Harry's story and had drilled him in the answers so thoroughly that he didn't even hesitate. "My mother and father left me a trunk in the attic that was full of things they thought I might need if I was left at Aunt Petunia's. They explained all about the wizarding world and who I am and what I would need to know. I also had my mother's journals from when she was at Hogwarts and even a journal that my father started after he and my Mum started dating, though he was never as good about writing in it as she was. I've read them each several times. It's funny though, my cousin can't see anything but blank pages, and I always wondered about it until I read in my dad's journal about how he and my mum charmed them so that only someone with Potter blood could see anything."

Flitwick looked rather disappointed that he would be unable to read what Lily had written but he had a rather pleased expression as he thought about the excellent charms work that his favorite student had managed. As two large platters of eggs, bacon, mushrooms, and tomatoes were placed before the two, he smiled at the dark haired boy with Lily's eyes and began to tell the boy about his parents from a teacher's perspective.

* * *

Vernon signed the last of the stack of papers that his secretary had placed on his desk and sighed in contentment and an extra flourish to his signature. With the last paper signed he was now the new regional manager of Grunning's Drills new Atlanta office. He had negotiated long and hard but the company had agreed to purchase his old house and pay for the move to Georgia once he and Petunia found a new one. And with the huge bonus and the generous travel allowance the three were going to visit the attractions in Florida for several weeks as well as look for a new house in Atlanta's classier suburbs before he had to report to work at the new plant. He placed the last of his set of copies in his briefcase along with the very large cashier's check, told his secretary goodbye and nodded absentmindedly at the calls of good luck and best wishes from his staff as he strode out of the London Grunning's for the last time, feeling a burden he hadn't realized was there lighten more and more with each step. He stopped at the security desk as he turned in his employee badge and asked the guard on duty to call his lovely wife and let her know that he was on his way home before shutting the heavy glass doors and beginning the next phase of their life, free forever from the magical world and it's 'freakishness'.

* * *

Harry pushed his still half full plate away and looked around at the small café, trying his best not to stare at the wonderful menagerie of magical folk that now half filled the outdoor tables. He was startled back to reality by his new Professor calling his name in bemusement. "Harry, child if you are done now we can visit Gringott's, and then begin your shopping. We have lots to do today if you want to be done by the time your Uncle comes to pick you up you know." The diminutive wizard dropped a handful of silver coins on the table and hopped down from the too tall chair he had been perched on. He grabbed Harry's hand and the two set off down the now crowded alley and toward a tall and imposing marble building.

Harry stumbled up the worn marble steps, his gaze caught by his first glimpse of a stern visage goblin, his red and gold uniform crisp and starched in proper military fashion causing the boy to forget to pick his foot up. The goblin took no notice of the child, his warrior stance ready for any threat, his eyes taking in the entire alley spread out in front of him without pause.

Professor Flitwick quickly stuck a hand under Harry's arm, catching the boy before he could complete his fall and standing him upright once more. "All right there, Mr. Potter…er Lord Potter, that is."

Harry's cheeks glowed faintly pink as he stammered, "Please call me Harry…I mean if you like…I mean…"

Flitwick beamed at the boy, "Thank you very much Harry. I will of course have to refer to you by either Mr. Potter or Lord Potter while in class, but I would be please to call you Harry in private. And you may call me Flit in private. It is the name my mother called me by and I would be pleased to have you call me that."

"Uh, thank you Flit…could it be Uncle Flit? I'm just not comfortable…and I know that my Mum called you Flit…." He ducked his head, his cheeks flaring.

"Certainly, certainly, I shall be most pleased to be your Uncle Flit." Flitwick looked meaningfully at the goblin guard who had been playing close attention to the exchange even though it would take another goblin, or a half goblin, to notice anything.

The two continued on and Flitwick pushed open the burnished brass doors for the boy, leading him into the small, ornate entrance hall and stopping to let Harry read the engraving upon the inner doors.

_  
__Enter, stranger, but take heed__  
__Of what awaits the sin of greed,__  
__For those who take, but do not earn,__  
__Must pay most dearly in their turn.__  
__So if you seek beneath our floors__  
__A treasure that was never yours,__  
__Thief, you have been warned, beware__  
__Of finding more than treasure there._(PS5)

Harry felt a short tingle of magic as he read the engraving and thought a question to his parents. 'Was that some kind of a curse or spell?'

His father answered him, 'Yes son it was, but most wizards and witches never notice that they complete the casting by reading the lines. You have just given a vow not to steal from the goblins. And you would do well not even to think bad thoughts while inside the bank.'

His mother added, 'James, stop frightening him. It's not as bad as that. It's more a subliminal warning than anything else. Your subconscious recognizes it and it discourages your conscious mind from thinking about stealing anything. If the goblins catch you they take care of the punishment and believe me you don't ever want to get the goblin nation mad at you. Now pay attention to your surroundings. It wouldn't do for Flit to notice you spacing out.' She shushed James from saying anything else to distract Harry.

Harry followed the Professor to a line without anyone else waiting in it and began conversing in a rapid and guttural language the Harry had never heard before. It sounded a lot like gargling when you had a sore throat or maybe what a Klingon with a head cold would sound like. He stifled a giggle at that mental image and paid attention as the goblin leaned over from his high counter and nearly fell off the front of his stool to see the little boy standing in front of him.

"Does Lord Potter have his key?" He asked in perfect English, barely a trace of his goblin accent audible in the gutturals.

"Ah, yes, I have it right here." Flitwick dug deeply into his wizarding robes and pulled out a tiny gold key. He had cancelled the glamour on his clothes when he had cast a simple eye color change charm on Harry when they had entered the Leaky Cauldron from Charing Cross Road that morning.

The goblin examined the key minutely, squinting so hard the wrinkles on his forehead looked like an old fashioned washboard. "It seems to be in order." One side of his lip curled up in something vaguely resembling a smile but which in actual fact was quite frightening to Harry. He turned and called out in his own language to a much younger goblin that was standing in a short row of other goblins much like bell boys at a posh hotel might.

"Tightfist will take you to your vault." Without even glancing at them again, he turned back to the huge ledger book that he had been making entries into with a large plumed quill.

Flitwick placed a comforting hand onto Harry's back and pushed him gently to follow after the young goblin. He leaned down and whispered into Harry's ear. "He will take us in a cart down to your school vault. There are other vaults belonging to the Potter's but you don't have access to them until you are older. I don't know the exact age since I haven't read the Potter will, but it is typically 14 for the older families, of which the Potters certainly are. Now this will be much like a muggle roller coaster ride. I must admit I am quite fond of them and visit carnivals in disguise frequently during the summer months when I have a chance to leave Hogwarts." He smiled broadly, both encouragingly and eagerly.

"I've never been on one, but I imagine I'll like it." Harry confessed shyly.

It was a toss-up whether Harry or Flitwick yelled louder at the twists and turns the rapidly moving little cart made, but it was certain they had both enjoyed themselves immensely.

Tightfist leaped with an agile grace out of the cart and turned to the two without pausing. "Key, please." He held out a long gnarled hand toward Harry and the boy gingerly place the tiny golden key into his palm.

Tightfist twisted the tiny key in the equally tiny keyhole and moved back as the door swung open, releasing a cloud of dust. Harry coughed a few times and blinked his eyes to clear them of the tears the dust had caused. His eyes opened unbelievably wide at the sight before him. He had known from his Dad's memories and teachings that he was quite wealthy but he had never had such actual proof staring him in the face before.

He could hear his mum and dad's chuckles echoing in his mind as he stepped forward and reached out a hesitant hand towards the massive piles of shiny golden coins. 'Don't be too shocked child…this is just your school trust vault. Wait to be shocked until you see the family vaults.' James explained.

'He's right Harry. I nearly fainted when James first showed me the Potter family vault and I did faint when he showed me the Heritage and Heirloom vaults. But enough for now, we'll show them to you later. Pay attention before Flitwick has a seizure from laughing.' Lily added.

Harry's cheeks flushed bright pink again and he shrugged sheepishly at the two laughing beings. "I knew from my father's journal, but that's a lot different from seeing it you know." He explained in embarrassment.

"Not to worry Harry. And nothing that goes on in Gringott's is ever mentioned to anyone else without your permission. It wouldn't do for them to speak about a client to anyone else. Gringott's is founded on both discretion and trust you know." Flitwick calmed his giggle down to explain.

"That is correct Lord Potter. And as one of our largest depositors you can be assured of our complete discretion at all times." Tightfist added solemnly as he handed Harry a black velvet bag embroidered with an ornate crowned 'G'. "This is a weightless moneybag charmed to hold five times as much as the outside dimensions. It is linked to your magic so that only you can withdraw coins from within."

Harry nodded his thanks as he filled the bag about halfway full with golden coins. He looked at Professor Flitwick, a small amount of confusion showing. "These are galleons, correct?"

Flitwick nodded slowly and as the three made their way back up to the lobby, the Professor gave Harry a short course on wizarding money and how much it was worth in comparison to muggle money.

As they stepped out of the cart and walked slowly across the lobby and out the double doors Harry clarified. "So the galleon is worth 17 sickles or 493 knuts? How do you keep the math straight in your head? Wouldn't it be easier to be 20 sickles and 500 knuts?"

"I suppose that magical folks are just used to it and I suppose that most folks just round it out to keep it straight. I know that I do." Flitwick admitted sheepishly.

"And 1 galleon is worth about 5 pounds and a sickle is about 30 pence or so?"

"As far as I can understand Muggle money, Harry, I don't use it very often and the paper just doesn't seem to be real to me. Now let's start with Madam Malkin's since that will take the longest to fit. We can leave after you are fitted and come back later to pick up your order. You said earlier that you had a trunk from your Mother and Father. Do you want to get another trunk or just use that one?"

Flitwick had led Harry down the steps and in the direction of the robe shop as they talked and stopped just outside the doors to finish speaking.

'You need to buy a multi compartment trunk but not in front of Flitwick so say the old one is fine.' James said in his mind as Lily added. 'Don't buy just the minimum of school robes, Harry. Tell Madame Malkin that you want the full school wardrobe with extra winter clothing and that should be fine. After you leave Flit we can go out into the muggle world for pants, vests, and socks. Muggles make a much better quality and variety of them. And much cheaper too.'

"Uh, my old trunks fine for this year. I might need to get a new one next year if I get too many books or something, but it should be fine for at least a year." Harry answered as he pushed open the door and entered the robe shop.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only 45 minutes or so, Harry thankfully pulled the door open and escaped the fussy seamstress' clutches. He didn't know there were so many choices of materials or styles in simple school uniforms and robes and he felt like his head would have split open if he hadn't had Lily's help with everything. Flitwick had been no help whatsoever and had just left Harry with Madame Malkin while he went and purchased the standard first years potion's kit since it was simply a matter of telling the shop clerk what year the kit was for and then paying over the three galleons and seven sickles it cost. The first year kit contained the recommended cauldron, crystal phials and brass scales as well as the potion's ingredients not supplied by the school. He had also picked up the telescope for astronomy since the school recommended that all students start out with the same one and he had to pass the shop that sold them on his way back to Madame Malkin's anyway.

With an involuntary shudder of thanks, Harry looked around at the now much busier street and noticed the Professor heading toward him with a tall ice cream cone in each hand. He gratefully accepted the offered cone and licked it all around, thankful that wizarding ice cream didn't melt down the sides of the cone at all.

With a hand under his arm, Flitwick led Harry out of the traffic and over to a small wooden bench in front of the bookstore. "Eat up, Harry, you'll need the strength to make it through the bookstore, and then getting a wand you know."

As he finished licking the last of the ice cream and began to crunch the delightful cone he asked the Professor. "Uncle Flit what did you do with the things you were going to buy for me? Do we have to pick them up later like the robes?"

With a chuckle, Flitwick reached into his own robes and pulled out three shrunken bags and leaning back he reached into the knapsack on Harry's back and stored them into the sack. "Just touch them with your wand when you get home, Harry and they will enlarge all by themselves. No magic from you…oh yes, I must explain as it is slightly different from when your parents went to school. Now you must not do any magic away from school. I know that it used to be just no magic in front of Muggles that don't know about the magical world but the Ministry for Magic passed a law about ten years ago that no under-aged witch or wizard can do magic away from school except to save themselves from danger. And that is strictly investigated. The penalties are quite harsh too so don't try to sneak in any magic before you come to Hogwarts, child. The Ministry requires a tracking charm to be placed on each wand sold to an underage magical being."

Harry blanched, his appetite for the last of his cone fading. "How about accidental magic…will I get in trouble for that?"

"Oh, no…no not at all; as accidental magic is done without a wand. The tracking charm is on the wand and accidental magic is unfocused so it's not tracked at all. And of course anything done before you go to Hogwarts is not counted at all unless it involves Muggles that need to be obliviated…oh that's having your memory modified so that you don't remember anything about the magical world. Wouldn't do to have the Muggles at large knowing about us. Might be worse than the witch burnings of the Dark Ages. Muggles are much better at finding and disposing of each other now aren't they. No, that wouldn't do at all." Flitwick shuddered involuntarily as he banished the remains of the two ice creams with a flick of his wand and then whispered a '_scourgify_' to clean them both up.

"Now, wand first or bookstore?" he queried.

Harry looked at the increasing crowds and frowned. "Maybe the bookstore so that we can avoid some of the afternoon crowd. Is that okay?"

Flitwick merely nodded and the two entered the bookstore behind them. Over two hours later, with eight textbooks, six reference volumes and three books that he simply wanted, Harry had lightened his purse by a whopping 31 galleons and the two headed back to the Leaky Cauldron for a light lunch and some more talking.

The Professor turned out to be a treasure trove of information that neither of his parents had ever shared before and proved to be very insightful on the history of the wizarding world for the last ten years that neither Lily nor James had any inkling of. The three Potters had listened intently to the intricacies of post-Voldemort politics and both the elder Potter's were absolutely outraged at the claims of 'Imperious' that had been allowed several of the most prominent and wealthy of the Death Eaters. Though Lily had to hold back James from manifesting when he heard of Sirius' imprisonment and only the thought that Padfoot had killed twelve Muggles while trying to catch Pettigrew kept him from lashing out. He had finally calmed down enough to acknowledge Lily's logical argument that they needed to more fully investigate what had happened before they did anything irrevocable and rash.

Harry had had a hard time keeping the inner conflict from showing up on his face while his parents went ballistic but he had managed to keep the Professor from getting too suspicious and now they were heading back out into the Alley to get the final item from his school list…his wand.

He couldn't contain his excitement from making him bounce with each step he took closer to Ollivander's. His parents had been teaching him magic all along in his mindscape but that wasn't the same thing. And the Potter's predisposition for acumen in wandless magic had helped greatly but he still couldn't wait for his first wand.

As soon as the door into the wand shop closed behind him, Harry turned quickly to face the queer feeling of magic pooling behind him and raised his hands automatically, ready to defend himself from the unknown wizard disillusioned and hiding in the corner.

Startled eerie moon like eyes blinked slowly as a startled eyebrow raised almost to his wispy grey hairline, Mr. Ollivander couldn't keep the surprise at being caught out from registering on his face. It had been many long years ago since a child had been able to sense his magic enough to focus on his location. He steeled his expression and began to speak. "Ah, Mr. Potter I was wondering when I would see you. I remember selling your parents their first wands. James' was an eleven inch mahogany, very pliable and quite good for transfiguration while your mother's was ten and a quarter inch and rather swishy. She was quite good with charms as Professor Flitwick can no doubt verify. Now I say sold but it's actually the wand that chooses the wizard after all. Let's see what we can do for you, boy, hmmmm…." With that he disappeared back into the dusty and rickety shelves of his shop all without Flitwick or Harry saying a single word to him.

Harry shook his head to clear the mental cobwebs and his annoyance at his parents' laughter and called up a small amount of his magical core into his right hand. He sent out a single pulse into the wand shop, hoping to instigate a magical resonance and vibration with the wand most compatible to his own magical signature. He felt an answering shiver of magic and looked down the last aisle to a shimmering box covered in dust and down almost to the floor. It shook as the magic in the wand responded to the magic from Harry's core and the box slipped forward several inches until it was poking out of the stack just at Mr. Ollivander's ankle height.

Ollivander came around the corner from the back of his shop, a wobbling pile of dusty wand boxes held high in his hands. They moved back and forth with each step the elderly wand maker took and seemed to remain upright only through the judicious use of magic. "Now, let's just start with these and see if we can find the right wand for…." The rest of the sentence was lost as the old wizard tripped over the extended wand box and went down with a loud oomph of pain. Wands and open boxes flew every which way, sparks shooting out as they came into contact with each other and the incompatible cores reacted violently. Bright fireworks shot out and caused boxes to fall and more wands to fly as the shop exploded with magic like a muggle grenade. Ollivander slid under the bottom of the counter while Harry and Flitwick covered their heads with their hands, hoping to protect themselves from the exploded magic as much as possible. An old hand reached out from under the counter and a quavering voice yelled out, "Finite incantatem!"

Immediately the wands and boxes fell to the ground while the beams of various colored magic fizzled out and the dust settled down covering everything in a thick layer of grey. Three sharp sneezes heralded Mr. Ollivander's exit from under the safety of his front counter while Harry just blinked slowly, trying to clear his eyes once again from the dust.

Flitwick merely bounced on his feet and muttered "Oh, my…oh, my…" over and over again while his eyebrows disappeared into his white hair.

Harry shrugged sheepishly and looked down at his trainers while muttering, "Sorry about that." While trying to hear his own voice over the loud guffaws and the annoying cackles that his Mum and Dad weren't even trying to stifle.

It took almost a minute for Mr. Ollivander to return to reality enough to understand what had happened before he turned his odd silver eyes on the despondent wizard child standing slump shouldered in front of him. Another moment passed before Ollivander's shoulders started to shake, then his mouth flew open and loud dust raising guffaws filled the air.

"Why Mr. Potter, I expected great things from you…just not quite so soon I must admit. And why should you be sorry that I tripped over my own stock. It is, after all, my own fault for not assuring the walkway was completely uncluttered." His voice still gave little hiccoughs from his laughter as he talked.

Harry shrugged again and looked at the mess of mixed up wands and boxes carefully while Mr. Ollivander pulled out his own wand again and mutter several spells under his breath. First the dust all vanished, banished somewhere unknown. Then the wands shivered and shook before finding their own way back to the proper boxes. And as a wand appeared in each box, that box flew up and found a space back on the proper shelf until finally there was only one box still on the floor, refusing to return to its proper space.

"Curious, most curious…" muttered Mr. Ollivander as he bent over and swooped up the errant box. He opened it gingerly and his eyebrow disappeared once more into his hairline.

He turned and looked closely at Harry, analyzing him much closer than he had before. He looked startled at what he discerned and began to speak once more, totally creeping Harry out as he did so. "I remember every wand I ever sold, Mr. Potter….I wonder…." He slowly picked the wand up from its box and handed it, grip end first to Harry.

Harry hesitated, feeling the power of the wand before he took it, slowly closing his fingers around the polished wood. He felt a warmth flowing up his arm as the wand began to glow an unearthly golden color, lighting up his face and casting long shadows around the now clean shop. As his fingers finally closed a great gush of multicolored sparks whooshed out the end of the wand and shimmered in the air, forming an ethereal phoenix that sparkled for almost a minute before dissolving into individual twinkling lights that slowly faded, leaving a flash memory on the retinas of those watching.

Flitwick sat down heavily on an old creaky wooden chair that had been standing in a corner as he exclaimed, "Great Merlin's Underwear…what was that?"

Ollivander leaned heavily against the tall wooden counter of his shop and wiped his sweaty brow. "I'm not exactly certain. I have never witnessed such a reaction from a wand to a wizard. Let me research for a bit and I'll owl you if I find anything." Forgetting the still speechless Harry and the overwhelmed Charms' Master still in the front of his shop, Mr. Ollivander disappeared into his back room. All they could hear was his footsteps disappearing down the steps into a cellar or basement before the echoing silence took hold.

Harry turned and looked at Flitwick and shrugged his shoulders apologetically. "What now? I assume this is my wand. What do I pay him?"

Flitwick frowned and then called out, "Mr. Ollivander….Mr. Ollivander…How much for the wand?"

"On the house!" was the only thing they heard coming up through the floor before silence once again took over the small shop.

* * *

AN: Sorry for the very long time between updates on any stories but I had a bad reaction to the cataract surgery in May and June. Turns out I am allergic to all four of the eye drops used post op and then had to wait to get a prescription for new glasses. Then the first prescription was wrong and I couldn't read anything with them and was getting more frustrated every day between not being able to read anything and blinding headaches I was so frustrated I told my daughter I would prefer to have the cataracts back. But it's all straightened out now…six months later and I can finally read a computer for more than 30 minutes without getting a headache. My glasses still aren't right but I can't afford to buy any more after having to purchase two complete sets that are worthless. I hope to get a chapter up for Paddy's Little Pup next as I have one about half typed. Thank you again for your patience and your reviews, they encouraged me during a dark time.


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